The Wonderland Murders
by Hitomi Zotz
Summary: Sequel to Suburban Legends. A fairytale murder mystery goes wrong when life imitates art at an alleged haunted house but is there more than 1 killer? Also, someone is turning a beloved childhood novel into a very real work of murder as Det Moon starts her new job in Miami after returning from sick leave but has she returned too soon and is her trauma causing her to confuse reality?
1. Prologue

_Oh wow it happened, sooner than planned! Of course once the idea came I just had to write it and unleash it. Anyway, a lot of my Suburban Legends reviewers said they would like a sequel so here it is! Fingers crossed it's as good as if not better than the original! To all new readers I advise you read Suburban Legends first._

 _This fic is going to be set 7 months after. Please read and review!_

* * *

 _She looked to the left, darkness, then to the right, darkness and above, darkness. She tried to stretch her hands out to feel her way through the suffocating black and they banged hard against wood. She was trapped! Her chest felt tight as her heart beat erratically against her ribcage, bump, bump, bump, too quick, she was breathing too quickly too, she had to slow it down, had to preserve what stale air there was. Did anyone know she was here?_

 _She beat her fists hard against the wood and started to scream, wasting the precious oxygen in a panic. It was too dark and too small; she was going to die down here, lost, alone, forgotten. "NO! NO! NO!"_

Detective Ridley Moon awoke in a cold sweat and for a brief moment was simply confused as she made to sit up and realised she could. So she wasn't trapped but what was wrong then? Darkness. The gasp escaped her before she could help it as her head turned about sharply in a panic and she threw the sheets she had become tangled in off in a panic. Trapped, vulnerable, lost in the dark. She fumbled in the dark for the holster looped over her bedpost and immediately yanked out her gun.

There was a low, deep rumble followed by a bright, white, sudden flash that had her tensing in alarm. There was a storm then, as she tried and failed to relax she realised she could hear the heavy pounding of rain on her tiled roof. It was pouring out there, heavy, warm drops that were simply a side effect of the humid Miami weather. Ridley didn't think she would ever get used to the clammy temperatures, long periods of scorching sun, or the storms and right now she didn't want to.

She stood upright with a shudder, tensing again as another flash of lightning illuminated her room for a few seconds. Shadows, there were too many shadows and she was starting to shake as she felt an uncomfortable and horribly familiar panic begin to take over. There were too many places to hide in the dark, and with the electric out her alarms were out too, anyone could be in her house without her knowing. She had to get out, outside there was space, outside she could run. It was ludicrous but as the blackness continued to smother her the feeling of being trapped grew and she found herself standing and hastening to the door.

Move slowly, be cautious, and don't make a sound, this was the mantra she chanted over to herself internally as she tried to quieten her loud breathing. She reached for her bedroom door knob with a trembling hand, swallowing hard as she only just managed to stop it from squeaking as she eased it open. Anyone could be out there in her hall and she had no way of knowing!

'Shit, keys!' she thought anxiously as her eyes rolled back desperately to the abyss behind her. 'End of the bed,' she reminded herself, 'end of the bed in your handbag.' She crept back hastily, pausing and waiting impatiently for another flash of lightning to guide her. She screamed when the light illuminated her room once more and she found a ghoulish figure staring back.

* * *

Detective Tim 'Speed' Speedle awoke with the low rumblings of the storm and reached for his lamp. He grumbled out a curse when it failed to light as he realised the power was down. 'Must be one bad storm,' he thought cynically. It sounded close, heavy, loud and destructive. He reached for his phone and pressed the button, illuminating the room slightly and showing the time to be 02:15. He frowned at the old-fashioned, metal, belled alarm clock beside his bed, silver with red hands and completely unsuited to his tastes. It ticked loudly, giving a faint metallic echo as it did and when the bells went off he always struggled to turn the damn thing off and often found himself heading to work with a headache. Of course those moments were rare, as he rarely used the thing; in fact he never personally set it. The clock was a gift from Ridley Moon, Tim's...something, he didn't even really know what kind of relationship they had anymore. When she was visiting his house she would often seize an opportunity to sneak into his bedroom and set the clock without him being aware.

Seeing the clock brought Ridley to the forefront of his mind as he rubbed at his mussed, thick, dark hair tiredly and looked at his phone again. If his electric was out hers probably was and if the storm had him awake she would definitely be up, alone in the dark and probably more than a little scared. He started dialling her number, pressing the phone to the side of his face as he forced himself to sit upright and wake up more. The rain was almost deafening now and when Ridley's phone rang off to her answer phone he felt a prickle of worry. No matter what time Tim called at, Ridley always answered, she never put her phone on silent and she was incapable of sleeping through it, in fact she was incapable of sleeping through the simplest of noises these past few months.

"Shit," he grumbled as he snapped the phone closed and stretched his arms out. He knew he was just being paranoid but still, he had made a promise to himself that he would always react to his gut feeling when it came to Ridley. He had almost lost her once and they were still going through the recovery process of that horrific incident, he knew he would never forgive himself if he ignored his worries and something happened again. It was highly unlikely but still, better safe than sorry. As he stood up he tried ringing her again but she failed to answer.

He dressed hastily, fumbling about awkwardly and cursing many times as he banged into several objects. Eventually, thanks to his phone, he was able to find a pair of reasonably clean jeans on the floor, a black t-shirt and a pair of trainers. Finding a suitable coat proved to be a much more difficult task as he didn't actually own a raincoat and he was ninety-percent positive that his standard issue CSI coat was at work. With another curse he grabbed a jacket that he knew would be worse than useless in the storm and then finally he strapped on his gun and grabbed his keys.

Ten minutes later found him soaked and cursing in his car as he looked out to a blurry gloom. Driving at night was unpleasant enough but driving in a storm like this was just idiotic. 'Chivalrous,' he chided himself dryly as he hit the wipers on full power and squinted ahead. 'Damn this storm's close,' he thought moodily as he saw lightning spark just metres away. 'If I don't spin out on the roads I'll probably get hit by a falling tree.' He glanced at his mobile and pressed the call button, one more time before he did something stupid. It rang out again and he knew something had to be wrong, Ridley would never ignore three calls from him, even when she was angry with him she at least texted 'I'm fine now fuck off'. It was their unspoken agreement; Ridley would always let him know she was okay even if they technically weren't talking.

He pulled out onto the road as carefully as he could, wincing as his tyres seemed to slide a little too easily onto the tarmac and the rain threatened to pound through the metallic roof. He was sardonically thankful that at least no one else should be out there for him to collide into. He drove slowly though he wanted to burn rubber; he knew he was no good to Ridley wrapped around a tree. 'Suppose I should be grateful she made me keep the car,' he thought cynically. Tim had wanted a motorbike and had intended to trade his car for one but Ridley had grumbled about how unsafe bikes were, how she would never share one with him and how they were no good in bad weather. In the end Tim had compromised by getting the motorbike anyway but keeping his beat up car as well though he rarely drove it anymore.

Normally Ridley was just a half hour drive away, twenty minutes if it was a quiet day, that had been her compromise coming down to Miami from New York, that she would rent a house close to one of them. She had come very close to getting one near Calleigh and the beach but it was over a good hour away from Tim's, though she had denied that being a factor to the blonde who had lamented that they wouldn't have as many girlie nights with Ridley far away. Ridley had replied teasingly that a few streets away wasn't as bad as several states away.

Forty-five minutes passed by before Ridley's modest home loomed into view. Tim almost missed it until the lightning illuminated the bent post box out front with a gold 22b painted on its side. His car screeched to a halt sloppily as he struggled momentarily with the wheel and ended up parking it sideways against the kerb. He turned off the engine, yanked out the keys, hurried out, hit the key fob and ran for it. He headed towards her front door, his eyes widening when he heard a low banging in the wind. He hurried forward, phone out to illuminate his way, and halted in alarm when he saw that her front door was wide open, hitting against the wall with the force of the storm.

"Ridley! RIDLEY!" he yelled as loudly as he could but he may as well have not bothered, he could barely hear his own voice over the storm. Inside or out? Where should he check first? Damnit he was wasting time thinking about it! He headed to her drive, her car was still there but he didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Should he call for help? He turned around with a scowl and hurried back to the porch, glancing about him as his feet splashed through numerous puddles. He halted suddenly when a flash of lightning showed the silhouette of...something at the front of the house in the small garden. Tim wasn't sure what it could be though it made him nervous enough to tug out his gun before he hastened towards it.

The rain beat off him mercilessly, showing no signs of letting up, it was so hard it was beginning to hurt and his exposed skin was turning red with the force. He held his phone out though he knew the light hindered as much as helped him, giving him away to a potential foe. He kept moving forward, unable to make it out until he was almost on top of it, then the lightning flashed again and he glimpsed a familiar, frightened grey-brown eye staring up at him. He sheathed his gun and dropped to a crouch immediately. "Ridley!" he snapped in alarm when he felt the cold nozzle of a gun pressed against the bridge of his nose.

"Tim?" her voice was barely audible.

"Ridley it's me, what the hell are you doing?" he demanded as he pushed back some of his soaked hair.

"Tim."

Blood. His eyes widened as he realised that's what the dark stains his phone light reflected off were, large and little drops and stains all over her hands and arms and even her face. He reached out to her, gently, unsurprised when she was stiff and resilient, caught up in her confusion and fear. "Damnit Ridley come on," he ordered as he urged her to stand. He guided her with one hand about her waist, his phone out in his other hand as he attempted to guide them. It was hard moving through the damp mud and several times his trainers threatened to stay behind in the drenched garden. He guided Ridley as far as the open front door before pausing and looking at her with a concerned frown. "Ridley," he queried in a serious voice, struggling to be audible over the storm, "is there someone inside?"

She shook her head as her lip trembled.

"Are you sure?" he practically shouted it.

She shook her head again. "Too dark."

He sighed and tugged the front door shut, then he tugged out his key and locked the door with his spare key. "Let's get to the car," he decided. He took her by the hand and they hastened through the rain to his car.

Once they were inside, Tim locked the doors, turned on the heater and flipped on the light above them before turning to take in her soaked, bedraggled appearance. What he could see of her wounds were largely superficial and it was difficult to tell what had caused them. She was hunched over, her arms crossed tightly over herself. "Ridley what happened?" he demanded.

"I woke up and everything was dark," she confessed quietly as she stared forward listlessly, "and I started to panic because I knew the power was out." She hunched forward slightly, pausing to push back some of her damp, dark hair. "I tried to go through the steps, but I thought if someone was there they would hear my deep breathing and I wouldn't hear them... It was so stupid, I had to get out, I just wanted to be outside and I went to leave and then realised I forgot my keys." She shook her head and let out a horrid laugh that set Tim's teeth on edge. "I turned to get my keys, the lightning flashed and of course I just happened to be facing my mirror when that happened..." She bowed her head slightly and shook it. "Of course I freaked out and I...shit..." She paused and looked down at herself warily.

"Ridley what do you do?" Tim demanded seriously as he felt a pang of worry rush through him.

She parted her arms slowly with a wince, suddenly aware that the dampness around them was warm and felt different to the rain. "There were shards everywhere," she murmured softly, "the mirror broke...I shot, it was instinctive, I thought someone was there and I took a shot..."

"At the mirror." Tim's eyes went wide as he noticed the dark crimson stain covering her left arm. "Shit," he cursed as he turned on his engine hastily and flicked on the lights. "There's a cloth in the glove compartment, wrap it around your arm tightly," he ordered as he started to drive. The lightning had flashed and she had saw a figure and fired without thinking only it had been her own reflection and evidently the bullet had ricocheted off the mirror, shattering it in the process before hitting her left arm.

The car skidded dangerously several times and even did a 180 as Tim drove in a state of panic, wondering how long she had been sitting in her garden simply bleeding, how deep the wound was and how much blood she had already lost. He drove to the hospital in the space of thirty-five precious minutes. Of course it was busy when they got there, many people had already been injured in the storm but after some anxious shouting and grumbles about being detectives, Tim finally got Ridley in to get her wounds treated.

It was almost two hours before Tim would learn that the bullet had gone straight through and was lying in Ridley's bedroom somewhere, that it had narrowly missed an artery and that was Ridley was in fact okay and just in need of some minor stitching. During that time he remained outside the door to the operating room, grim faced and soaked to the bone, wondering and worrying about Ridley's state of mind.

Ridley had transferred down to Miami just three months ago. When she had arrived she had been put on immediate full paid leave with regular daily sessions with the Miami-Dade psychiatrist. It was Lieutenant Caine who had arranged it all after Ridley had worked with them on concluding a case that had started in New York and finished in Miami.

The Suburban Legends Killer as he had come to be known was a serial killer who had murdered in the style of urban legends, killing numerous people in horrific fashion, including Ridley's partner Detective Silver. It had come to a boil when he had taken Ridley as a victim, torturing and raping her for hours before burying her alive, he had intended her to die buried alive but had been foiled by Lieutenant Caine and Detective Speedle finding her just in time. In the end, thanks to the evidence she had left on him and her descriptions on him, and his determination to defeat them leading to the sloppy mistake of taking Detective Delko for his next victim, they had found and killed their killer.

It was all just six months ago that it had ended and Ridley had headed back to New York. Of course she had been enticed back to Miami by Tim just five days later to spend Christmas in Miami with her friends before heading back to New York once more to take some time contemplating Lieutenant Caine's offer of a transfer to Miami, some time to grieve, and some time to cope with her own personal trauma and nightmares.

Now it was June, close to the anniversary of Detective Silver's brutal murder and also close to Ridley returning to work as a detective and starting her new role in Miami, and Tim was in serious doubt that she was ready. He understood her fear, hell he had expected it but opening fire on a suspected intruder in her home without even trying to identify them, if it had been a real intruder...well of course she had a right to defend herself but killing someone was still killing someone and wasn't she damn lucky the bullet had only hit her arm? Then sitting outside in her garden, exposed and bleeding out... She was still dangerously unstable.

The doctor eventually came out with reassurances and granted Tim permission to see Ridley. She was sitting on a plastic chair, arm bandaged and in a sling, stitches on her left cheek and down her right arm and an apologetic look on her pallid face. "I'm sorry Tim," she said quietly as she met his worried stare, "please don't tell Horatio."

Tim sighed and scratched at his drenched hair awkwardly before shutting the door behind him. "Ridley..."

"I'm due back at work," she said a little more clearly, "and I don't want another month off. Please, it was alright when I had the distraction of finding a house and moving in but that's all gone now and it's horrible just being stuck with my thoughts day after day."

"Ridley you could have shot someone without identifying them, you could have killed them, you could have killed yourself," he retorted in a serious tone.

"I know," she replied with a dejected look, "it was stupid of me, I...I had a nightmare...I was in the dark, trapped, and then I woke up only...only the nightmare was still happening, it was still dark..." She trailed off as her hands started shaking and she suppressed a tremble.

Tim eyed her quivering hands warily; it had been worse as recent as three months ago, he had thought it had stopped but now he was wondering if she had just gotten good at hiding it. "Ridley you're still suffering post traumatic stress," he said as gently as he could.

"Oh is that what it is?" she snapped defensively with an angry look in her brown-grey eyes. "When you get kidnapped and held hostage and tortured and...and raped," she choked out the last word as her eyes filled with tears. "You don't just get over it!" she snapped. "You move on but I can't if I don't get back to work."

Tim took a step towards her and reached out to embrace her but she pushed him back angrily with one hand. He let out a heavy sigh, she wouldn't stay at his house because that was where she had been taken from by the killer, hell it had only been in the last month that she had started coming by again but she was jumpy when he tried to embrace her and whilst certain things were allowed there was no sex. He understood it of course, never questioned it and tried to be understanding about it but more and more she seemed to be pushing him away as if determined to do it alone.

"Ridley I understand okay and I want you back at work, of course I do but I don't want you going back before you're ready because I care okay?" he added with his own defensive look as she glowered up at him. "Look, let me take you to a hotel, get a nice bed and we'll talk about it tomorrow."

"Tim I can't," she answered wearily as she rubbed at her eyes viciously with her free hand, "I...I'm sorry, God it's been months but..." She shook her head. "It's not fair to you, I can't... I just can't be with you."

"Ridley I get it," he retorted calmly, "and I'm not looking for anything I just know you won't come to mine and you can't go home with the electric still out, that's all."

She sighed again and nodded weakly.

* * *

It was just after noon the next day that Tim took Ridley back to her house and helped her check round it for evidence of a break in. Satisfied that no one had entered the property, he then helped her tidy up the bloody mirror shards and the bloodstains on the carpet before leaving her to go to the Miami-Dade Headquarters. It was there, after some serious debating with himself, that he confessed what had happened to Horatio. He had contemplated saying nothing but then Horatio had given him a look and demanded to know what was wrong and somehow it had all come out. Well not all of it but enough for Horatio to head round to Ridley's to discuss the matter with her.

In the end Horatio had recommended another month off for Ridley, assuring her warmly that she would still receive full pay and have a job kept open for her and that it was for her own good. She had protested angrily, cried, cursed and even called Tim a liar and a blabbermouth to Horatio before accepting the unyielding Horatio's decision with a sigh and a sad nod. She had then attended the psychiatrist with a bleak stare and accepted the recommended medication she had been so resistant to.

Tim spent the rest of the day in the lab in a bad mood prompting his best friend Detective Eric Delko to query it. After much prompting Eric finally wheedled the truth out of a guilty Tim before assuring him that he had done the right thing. Despite Eric's reassuring words Tim felt guilty anyway and he was unsurprised when Ridley replied to his concerned text with- 'I'm shit, leave me the fuck alone'.

Horatio had tried to reassure his traces expert too, confidently remarking that when Ridley was ready they would know and that she would improve. He even suggested that all it might take was the right case; little knowing that one was about to crop up, pushing the mundane cases of drug shipping, illegals trespassing, theft, vandalism and murder to the background.

One more short month of peace was all they were going to have before Miami was turned upside down by the disturbing, weird and terrifying.

* * *

 _This prologue just seemed to flow out of me last night, honestly I just couldn't stop typing it! I debated about it for a while though as I obviously don't want Ridley being a damsel and I sort of imagined a more gripping opening for the sequel but honestly I liked this so I went with it. Basically I figure given everything they all went through that they all still have issues, especially Ridley who wants to better and working again but despite her best efforts just isn't. I also figured her relationship with Tim would still be complicated because I felt that was realistic._

 _So anyway, I hope you all enjoy, please read and review!_


	2. Chapter 1- Not Quite a Fairytale

Miami, it was a young city that was a combination of sun, sand, sea and storms mixed with drugs, drinks and death. There was the popular image on the surface of sex, wealth and non-stop excitement, not as strange as Vegas it did not offer the promise of fame and fortune to just anyone like the desert city but was rather more exclusive in its corrupt, wealthy clientele but then there was its other side, a dark underbelly of poverty, illegal workers, exploited immigrants and crime, almost enough to rival Vegas these days though that was never advertised. Vegas was the known city of sin after all, formerly run by the mob, people would have been surprised if the crime was low but Miami was meant to be a haven for the sun loving Apollos and Aphrodites of the modern world, a city of highly paid for security.

Lately, with a bad month of storms and rain, the image of the sunny city had become tainted in more ways than one. People took advantage of the bad weather, the crime rate had spiked, particularly looting and vandalism, and then there were the murders poorly disguised as acts of nature. Now as July approached midway and the good weather trickled back slowly for the summer Miami-Dade Headquarters in which the CSI and police thrived had been hoping to heave a quiet sigh of relief. Lieutenant Horatio Caine had to appreciate the irony that it would be on Friday the Thirteenth when a fresh case came to his attention, promising that peace was not going to happen.

He hastened up to his office where he knew his second-in-command Calleigh Duquesne was waiting eagerly for the evening's assignment. When he reached his office he faltered in the doorway slightly, a little surprised to find Detective Ridley Moon looking up at him expectantly. She was sitting beside Calleigh, smaller and paler with long, dark hair, a complete contrast to the beautiful, beaming, blonde on her left. Her brown-grey eyes simmered with an ever present caution and mistrust that Calleigh's sweet, clear blues lacked. Ridley was only twenty-eight but her eyes were aged and hinted at the years she had been forced to age before her time.

Ridley had been back with them for five days now; her cases had been minor, usually in the company of Detective Frank Tripp, an attempt to ease her back into the line of duty. As he looked at her Horatio was not certain if she was ready for this type case especially since it was terribly close to the type of cases that she had dealt with in New York- those of a weird nature. Horatio had been watching her closely these past five days, querying Frank about her behaviour and checking what psych reports were made available to him and he was finding it difficult to tell if she was alright or just pretending to be and even if she was he had to wonder how close she was to the edge.

"What's the news H?" Calleigh queried with a wide grin.

Horatio supposed that if Calleigh shared any of his fears she wouldn't have pried for news in front of Ridley. The blonde had been positively delighted to have the New Yorker back at work and had made a big effort to catch up with her as often as she could, going out of her way to offer her expertise with guns when Ridley brought in bullets from crime scenes. Horatio wanted to hope that if Ridley wasn't ready to be back at work Calleigh would have noticed but he wasn't sure, the blonde would probably be more inclined to downplay Ridley's stress, fearful to voice a negative opinion in case it saw Ridley back on sick leave.

"It's a strange one," Horatio confessed with a small smile.

"Well we haven't had them in a while," Calleigh replied with a teasing smile.

Horatio nodded. "It's quite fresh too, where are Eric and Speed?"

"Either in the lab or in the kitchen bickering over who broke the coffee machine."

Horatio frowned slightly. "And who did it break it?"

Calleigh shrugged as she stood upright. "I don't know, no witnesses, odd for a crime department."

"Right." Horatio suppressed a sigh. "Let's find them quickly while the evidence is still new." His dark blue gaze flickered over to Ridley who continued to stare up at him with a subdued curiosity. There were numerous rumours about the Miami-Dade Headquarters as to why Horatio had accepted a transfer application from the odd New Yorker while she was on sick leave, some were innocent and flattering, suggesting he wanted her because of her good work on the Suburban Legends killers, others less so suggesting that New York hadn't wanted her back and Horatio had felt sorry for her, and then of course there were the ludicrous suggestions of an affair between him and the much younger woman. Yelina hadn't taken too kindly to those rumours despite Horatio's vehement protests. He supposed the fact that he was at Ridley's house at least once a week didn't help things. The truth was he didn't really know if he had wanted Ridley to stay in Miami for herself or him or both.

"Are you coming Detective Moon?" he queried politely.

She stood up hastily with a nod and then followed after him with Calleigh. They headed towards the kitchen, unsurprised when they began to hear yelling as they neared its plain, grey door, marked with KITCH in worn black font, it was an eternal source of amusement to both Calleigh and Ridley to see the dated room so appropriately labelled. Horatio opened the door in time to hear Tim yell, "I didn't touch the damn thing!"

"Well it wasn't me!" Eric snapped back with a shake of his head. "Besides you're the clumsy irresponsible one around here."

"Hey!"

Eric shrugged with a small smirk before he started listing incidents, pointing to the fingers on his right hand one by one as he did. "Calleigh's heat lamp, my drugs kit, Frank's car seat," his grin widened at Tim's angry look of surprise, "yes he told me about that, he told everyone, your own camera and that microscope in the lab."

Calleigh started snickering prompting Eric to turn in surprise, his grin widened at Horatio's arched eyebrow whilst Tim's scowl only deepened as he leaned back against the off-white counter in a form of angry defeat. "Wow Speed," Calleigh joked, "why are you a CSI again?"

"The paycheque," came the growled retort.

"Anyway, do we have a case H?" Eric queried with a glimmer of excitement in his warm brown eyes.

"When don't we?" Speed grumbled sardonically.

"Well this one's a little different," Horatio explained, "we need to go out to the Everglades, the emergency services received an odd call just over an hour ago, they thought it was a prank but the police officers who went to check the scene aren't so sure."

"How can they not be sure?" Speed quipped dryly as he leaned past Eric to give Horatio a puzzled look.

"Man I love Friday the Thirteenth," Eric exclaimed happily as his eyes filled with gleam. His gazefell on Ridley, hanging back half behind Calleigh and he couldn't resist commenting, "Ridley this has to be your night!"

"Eric," Calleigh chided with a disapproving stare.

"What? Come on!" Eric protested. "She's been doing lame cases all week, and she is our resident expert in all things weird."

Ridley rewarded him with a small smile before retorting, "so far the only weird thing I'm hearing about this is that it's happened or is happening tonight."

Horatio glanced over his shoulder at her swiftly and was surprised by the eagerness suddenly showing in her eyes. He wondered if this could possibly be what Ridley needed. "Actually it does get a bit stranger," the redhead admitted. "What we're about to deal with is a murder mystery party in the middle of nowhere with a very real murder apparently."

"Let's go already!" Eric exclaimed.

"Shotgun," Calleigh called quickly.

"In whose car?" Tim quipped as he looked at her with his usual deadpan stare.

"Not yours anyway," the blonde retorted quickly, "the weather's going to make getting there hard enough without you driving."

"Oh come on Calleigh, Tim's idea of driving just adds to the atmosphere," Eric teased.

"Then you go with him," the blonde suggested.

"I'll drive, Calleigh, Ridley, you can come with me, that way at least over half our team will get there safely," Horatio remarked with a small, wry grin. "Speed, Eric, fight it out on the way to the car park."

"Rock, paper, scissors," Eric was quick to suggest.

"Not that again," Tim protested as they started to walk.

"How about I think of a number between 1 and 10 and you both have to guess?" Calleigh offered.

"Er no," Tim replied flatly to her back.

"Why not?" she quipped as she glanced over her shoulder at him sharply.

"Because you'll let Eric win," Tim protested.

"Just because she likes me better," Eric joked as he gave her a quick, hopeful glance.

"I won't let him win," Calleigh replied with a cross shake of her head before she looked ahead again but not before she rewarded Eric with a brief smile.

"How about whoever guesses the theme of the party gets to drive?" Horatio suggested.

"Theme?" Eric echoed with a dubious look.

The redhead nodded with a coy look as he hastened down the steps.

"There's a theme?" Eric repeated with fresh excitement as his eyes widened.

"It could be anything," Tim grumbled as he glanced from Ridley's back to the stairs. He wasn't sure how he felt about her joining them tonight, he had missed her being part of their time, a lot in fact but he was wary about her being able to handle a 'weird' case of all things. Being handed weird cases was what had led to her being profiled for the Suburban Legends killer, in more than one way in fact.

"Mobsters," Eric guessed.

"No."

"Oh come on," Tim continued to complain with a frown, "this is stupid."

"Western," Calleigh suggested as she looked at Horatio hopefully.

The redhead shook his head.

"Why are you guessing?" Tim snapped as he gestured out towards her with one hand.

"If I get it I get to pick the driver, it's only fair that we all get to guess," the blonde griped.

Ridley was unable to resist a small smile that mostly went unnoticed behind her loose, dark brown waves. She hadn't realised just how much she had missed this, not just the distraction or excitement of the job itself but this, the humorous banter amongst close co-workers, her co-workers she realised as her smile widened a little. Even though she had been getting weary of Horatio's constant visits as it was exhausting her trying to convince him that she was fine, and the awkwardness with Tim seemed to be getting worse rather than better she had still missed being with them all as a group sorely.

"Oh I know," Eric said confidently, "mermaids, that was pretty popular at a club last week."

"Man how would that even work?" Tim snapped as he gave Eric a scolding look. "Is everyone just meant to hop around all night in their tails?"

"You haven't even guessed anything yet and we're almost at the car park," Eric retorted heatedly with a defensive look at his colleague.

They all paused at the main doors and looked out through the wide, double glass doors at the heavy rainfall in irritation. "Egypt," Calleigh guessed.

"Rome," Eric piped up as Horatio shook his head.

"Vampires," the blonde suggested.

The rain looked as bad as it sounded though Ridley though it was pretty the way it was illuminated by the white lights that lit up the car park, giving the droplets against the glass an attractive sparkle. "Diamonds falling from the sky," she murmured quietly earning an odd stare at her back from Tim which she failed to detect.

"A casino," Eric countered.

"God this is ridiculous," Tim grumbled as he raised his palm to his brow and shook his head into it.

"Black tie!"

"Medieval!"

"Fairytales," Ridley piped up.

"Bingo."

They all fell silent, glancing from Ridley to Horatio in surprise.

"See, this is your case!" Eric broke the silence at last as he stepped forward to look at the woman. "Now, can I remind you that Speed is a really bad driver and I quite like living and if you pick me I'll owe you."

"Can I remind you," Tim spoke up loudly as he moved from behind them to push between Eric and Ridley, "that I'm taking you to the cinema tomorrow and I still have the chance to pick the film and Martian Zombies is looking pretty good right now."

Ridley looked past Tim to give Eric an apologetic look. "Sorry Eric, Tim gets to drive."

"You guys are going on a date?" Calleigh exclaimed from Ridley's right with a clap of her hands. "How fun!"

"The address is tricky," Horatio explained as he glanced back at them all, "the house is called the Chimera House, it's about half an hour off the Sunglades Road, take the right on the road onto a path called Thorndale Lane and follow it down. I'll be right behind you."

Tim simply rolled his eyes at Calleigh who was now smiling at him mischievously before tugging out his car keys. "Right Delko, start running," he suggested before he pushed open one of the glass doors and bolted out in the car park followed closely by a cursing Eric.

"I'll bring the car round," Horatio offered before he tugged out his keys and followed after the other two.

"Looks like we're going in the right car," Calleigh remarked brightly as she grinned at Ridley. "So you and Speed are going on an actual date then?" she was quick to pry.

Ridley's cheeks turned a faint pink before she gave a hasty nod. She had been reluctant to agree to the date, she felt guilty about having any kind of intimacy with Tim when she wasn't prepared to give him everything but he had been getting fed up with her attempts to distance herself and pushed for the date. Though neither of them was saying it they both knew it was going to be much more than a simple, cliché cinema date, if it didn't work out tomorrow then they were going to give up, at least for a while. Ridley didn't think she was ready to date anyone just yet and she didn't want Tim missing out by waiting for her but at the same time she knew if the Suburban Legends killer hadn't gotten her then it wouldn't be this way, she would be with Tim so why deny herself that and let the killer win?

"Well that's positive," the blonde enthused, "I mean for a while there I wondered..."

"We're not...it's..." Ridley paused with a sigh. "It's hard Calleigh," she admitted quietly.

"I know," Calleigh retorted mournfully prompting Ridley to glance at her curiously. Somehow the New Yorker felt that Calleigh's answer seemed quite personal.

Horatio's car finally appeared and the women hastened out to it, Calleigh giggling when they slipped into the car at last and onto the soft, whisper grey seats. "Wet night," she jested, "it's not how fairytales are supposed to begin."

* * *

"So Ridley seems good," Eric commented conversationally.

"Yeah," Tim answered non-committantly as he leaned forward to peer through the gloom. They were on the main Sunglades Road now trying to look out for the sign for Thorndale Lane.

Tim's battered and bruised radio wasn't getting much and Eric refused to listen to Tim's idea of music so that meant no CDs either. The wipers going every half second, the tyres skidding over puddles too quickly and the rain beating off the metallic roof were plenty of noise anyway.

"Has she been alright outside of work this past week?" Eric pried.

"I guess," Tim grumbled.

"You guess? Oookaay," Eric trailed off awkwardly as he caught Tim glaring at him out of the corner of his eye. "Look I...I had nightmares for a long while and being back at work, well it helped and it didn't and I was only captive for a while, he hardly did anything to me and I knew you guys had a way to find me but Ridley...well it was a lot worse for her."

"Yep," Tim answered bluntly as he suddenly hit his brakes.

Eric let out several expletives as he grasped the safety handle above him to the left as the car shook from left to right undoubtedly leaving several treads on the road before it finally came to a halt at a ninety degree angle. "What the hell?" Eric gasped out as his breath heaved out painfully from his chest as he felt vomit roll through his stomach. "You and your driving!" he spat out as he released the handle with a wince and doubled over.

"I almost missed the turn," Tim murmured unapologetically as he gestured to the dark lane ahead that his car was now facing.

Eric twisted about in his seat, smirking when they were suddenly illuminated by Horatio's headlights. "I hope he saw that," Eric said smugly.

"Whatever," Tim grumbled as he drove forward.

The lane, and it really was a lane, was slick with mud and without lights, paths or any sign of civilisation on either side of it. There was only gloom and the unseen wetlands, sawgrass and trees of the infamous Everglades. They detected a few black silhouettes that suggested trees that seemed to close up around them the more they drove down the lane but given their bleak, damp conditions it was impossible to tell what the shadows really were. It was almost nine o'clock, prompting Tim to wonder just how early the party had started.

"Look I didn't mean to pry about you and Ridley or anything, I'm just wondering how she is, I know this week must have be tough for her and I thought..." Eric paused and shrugged. "Well I thought you would know best."

Tim let out a heavy sigh. "Ever since I told Horatio that she shot her own reflection she hasn't exactly been up for sharing with me," he confessed, "and despite my best efforts to see her outside of work this week well...she hasn't wanted to know about it," he grumbled moodily. "In fact I'm practically dragging her to the cinema tomorrow she's that eager to go and hell it's not my thing either but I figured it was a way of getting her alone outside of work but in a situation where she didn't have to talk and she could maybe just...be normal."

Eric nodded sympathetically. "He did awful things to her Speed," he said quietly. "I didn't sleep for over a week, I ended up taking sleeping tablets and that was only after I got new security cameras and alarms around my house, I was on edge for a good month." He bowed his head and closed his eyes briefly as he suppressed the mirror of almost being eviscerated in a bathtub of ice.

"She didn't feel safe before that you know," Tim grumbled, "she never liked being alone, especially not at night."

"Yeah well I didn't like being alone either after that guy so I imagine her fear increased by a hundred but having you around every night won't help her get over it. She obviously wants to conquer her fears and given it's a fear that's only gotten worse it must be excruciatingly hard," Eric sympathised.

Tim turned to give him an annoyed glare. "So what are you saying? That I should just back off completely and let her be alone and anti-social?"

"No," Eric protested as he looked nervously to the road as the car swerved to the left. "I'm just saying she probably wants to be with you, scratch that, she does want to be with you but right now she probably can't, look go on your date tomorrow, have fun, don't put any pressure on her and if she wants to talk about it after, then talk about it. Maybe if tonight goes well it will help her."

"Right."

They continued on in silence as the rain finally let up until they reached an old, wooden bridge that led across a patch of swampland to an old, towering house ahead.

"You've got to be kidding," Tim grumbled as he looked at the wooden bridge moodily.

In front of the house were six cars in total, one of them was a squad car, all parked on a makeshift, gravel drive. The house itself was a work of wonder, a long, tall property with its double front doors raised on four steps with a tiled porch hanging out over it, two dominant, arched windows on either side of the doors, lights glowing from behind their curtains and French window shutters banging noisily on either side of them.

Eric counted three stories, although he suspected there could be a windowless attic judging from the large space between the top windows and the roof, and possibly an unseen basement. There was also a wrap around porch visible on the right and left of the house, made of stone columns and slanted, tiled roofs, completely exposing whatever was underneath to the elements.

Tim took the bridge in a typical reckless fashion prompting several swears from Eric before he abandoned his car to the right of the police vehicle. The pair stepped out hastily, glancing at the other vehicles as they waited for Horatio and the others.

"Slashed tyres," Eric commented, "all of them, even the police car."

Tim nodded as he looked at the cop car warily and pondered how long it had been here. "Well that's not good," he muttered.

"Neither's the bridge after the way you drove over it," Calleigh chided as she joined them. "Oh my, that's some handiwork," she remarked as she stared at the tyres.

"Someone who wants the authorities to stay, well that's new," Horatio quipped dryly. "Ladies and gentlemen, let's join the party already." He gestured up towards the main doors.

They headed up hastily with their equipment in hand; waiting for a response after Horatio used the brass knocker that hung from a ghoulish looking mouth.

"Well this is more than a little creepy," Calleigh murmured as she took in the cracked pots of dead plants that sat around the door.

"Great place to have a party," Eric mused.

None of them was quite sure how to react when Little or rather, Very Much Grown Red Riding Hood answered the door. She was clad in knee high, black, leather boots, a very short, red, velvet skirt with a suggestive hint of white lace poking out from it, an unnecessarily tight, black corset that pulled her waist in and pushed her impressive bust up, a thin, silk, white shirt and of course the expected red hooded cape or caplet rather which matched the skirt by being both velvet and short. "Hi," she greeted bluntly as she gave them a cool stare with her frosty blue eyes.

"A blonde Red Riding Hood, that's new," Tim murmured dryly.

"A sarcastic cop, how cliché," she retorted sardonically as she gave him and his badge a look of disapproval, earning a snicker from Eric.

"Can we come in or would granny disapprove?" Tim queried, matching her dry wit.

"Well you do look like more of a wolf than a woodsman but then again," she leaned forward just a little, "I've always like wolves better." She gave a small, red lipped smile before stepping back. "Welcome to the Chimera House," she welcomed them in dramatically, gesturing back to the entrance room they stepped into it with a large, welcoming staircase that split into two halfway up, one to the left and one to the right and had a grandfather clock at its top flanked by two statues hidden under white sheets.

"Are you the hostess?" Horatio queried politely as he took in the wooden floor with an expensive looking bearskin to greet visitors with and several more decorations hidden under dusty white sheets. To add to the atmosphere there were some very real cobwebs and a few old looking paintings with dusty frames but thankfully no dramatic, creepy portraits or suits of armour.

"Nope, that would be Snow White," Red said dismissively, "to your left in the parlour, that's where I should probably be too, Officers Gray and Mason didn't want us wandering."

"And where are they?" Horatio pried.

"Wandering," she answered merrily as she gave Tim a teasing smile.

"And the victim?" Horatio queried wearily.

"Oh that would be Goldilocks, in the conservatory, it ain't pretty."

"Show us," Calleigh said as she gave the woman an unpleasant stare.

"You know names would be nice," the blonde retorted as she gave a Calleigh a calm, cool look. She flashed another suggestive smile at Tim, "I'm Serena, what's your name wolfie?"

"I'm Detective Speedle," he retorted dryly with an unimpressed glance.

"And I'm Detective Delko, not that you asked," Eric chirped up dryly.

"I'm Lieutenant Caine," Horatio continued, "and this entire house is now going to be our crime scene so if you could take us to the body we can get to work."

"Sure," she replied with a careless shrug, "hey wolf if you want a picture of me for evidence just let me know," she offered as she looked pointedly at the camera about Tim's neck.

"If we want a profile of potential suspects that might come in handy," Ridley answered coolly. When Serena glowered at her she gave her an innocent look in response.

"This way," Serena muttered as she turned and led them through a door to the right of the staircase. They headed down a narrow hall, through a small, empty dining room and then into a sitting room with two glass doors that led out to the conservatory. The sitting room was lit with lights designed to resemble candles on the walls in brass holders, whilst the conservatory had an unpleasant red glow about it.

"Eerie," Serena murmured though she didn't sound scared, if anything she sounded impressed. "We all thought it was a well staged part of the game, even Officer Gray wasn't too sure. Anyway, you guys enjoy, I'm going to head back to the others and let them know the cavalry's arrived." She let out a small, dry giggle at her own jibe before retreating back the way she had come.

"Well she's a bitch," Calleigh grumbled.

"Be sure not to gulp her up Speed," Eric taunted as he smirked at his friend, "I think she's more than you could swallow down."

"Not funny Delko," Tim answered dryly as he fiddled with his lens.

Horatio stepped out into the conservatory first. The room was cooler than the rest of the house and plagued with the low hum of a wind threatening to build up again as it had the thin, gossamer curtains flapping about the broken window adding to the spooky effect. The window had been smashed inwards and there were shards of grass on the brick tiled floor, along with soil and shards from a broken plant pot, and upended wicker furniture. The red glow, Horatio realised, came from the upended lamp which had a dented lampshade and a bulb stained with blood.

"What in the hell did that?" Tim queried dryly as he surveyed their victim.

She was somewhere in her early twenties with curly, copper hair, fair, freckled skin and a suggestive costume of pale yellow that left little to the imagination. Her eyes were wide, frozen in death and her small lips slightly parted, she was sprawled out unnaturally on the floor and at several points on her body were deep, bloody red marks, some so deep they showed bone and one on her stomach even exposed her intestines. What was odd and disturbing about them was that they looked like claw marks.

"A bear," Ridley answered sardonically as her nose wrinkled at the smell.


	3. Chapter 2- Murder Mystery Party

"Alexx I can hardly hear you," Horatio called down his phone. "Yes, one body, no we haven't touched it yet. I don't understand why you weren't called first. Uh huh, I know it's bad out there, get here as soon as you can but drive safe, I don't want any lives risked for the sake of speed." He sighed as the static overrode the medical examiner's voice and the phone cut out.

"It's a bit sloppy not calling the examiner," Calleigh tutted from her position on the ground, head pressed against the tiled floor as she studied the odd wounds from a tantalisingly close proximity.

"It's a bit sloppy having all the potential suspects still here," Eric grumbled, "with no one watching them."

"Good point," Horatio remarked dryly as he looked to the swarthy man, "why don't you and Ridley get right on that? Find out what you can about our party players and what happened here and find out where exactly our lackadaisical officers have gone."

"It just seems odd," Ridley murmured as she glanced up from the body.

"What does?" Horatio pried.

She met his stare with a serious one. "The CSIs come after the crime but I can't help feeling we're here during it, and I know, down in Miami it's different you guys are cops too but still..."

Calleigh sat up sharply as a loud roar of wind rattled through the broken window sending the thin curtains in all directions. "That's just a little unnerving Ridley," she grumbled.

"Well think about it," Ridley continued in a serious tone, "the cops are called and their tyres are slashed so the killer or killers have to still be here, that or someone's playing a very odd prank."

"Maybe they slashed the tyres and escaped after," Eric suggested.

"Maybe," Ridley murmured but she looked like she doubted it. "Anyway, let's go the parlour and see if Miss Scarlett's waiting there with the candlestick, I mean Miss Red."

Eric gave a small smile at that before following Ridley back the way they had come.

"So Calleigh, bear claws?" Horatio quipped curiously.

"I hate to say it," Calleigh murmured as she continued to study the corpse without touching, "but it really does look that way. I mean the strokes number a bear's claws and the depth and spacing between each slash looks about right."

"You can't be serious," Tim commented sardonically as he lifted his camera and took a photo of the body. "Goldilocks killed by a bear."

"Well..." Calleigh sat upright on her knees and dusted her black trousers off. "Alright let's say the claw marks are just for effect or to cover up the real murder weapon," she suggested, "but I can't guess at what that was without a better examination and honestly, it's going to be Alexx who determines the cause of death. All I know is it looks like she was alive when she was dealt most of these wounds."

* * *

"So is this weird by your standards?" Eric queried dryly as several pairs of eyes rolled up to him and Ridley and the irate chatter in the room suddenly stopped.

The room was small, old-fashioned and crowded with eight people who in such minute quarters made the room seem packed. The parlour had a faded blue and gold brocaded three piece suite with mahogany legs and curved mahogany arms, a mahogany coffee table with an ovular top cluttered with fine crystal champagne and brandy glasses, porcelain dishes of crisps and chocolate that looked far too fine to be used for junk food, and fancy looking envelopes and cards. There was a fireplace against the back wall, appropriately tall and grand with an iron mesh guard resting on its black mantle and a huge mirror above it with a gilded frame. Adding to the aged appearance was a wooden globe that had numerous bottles of aged wines and fine whiskeys at its base and undoubtedly had glasses in its globe, a chess set with several pieces missing and a small bookshelf against the right wall with several leather bound tomes that looked like they were for decoration only.

There was one large, arched window which faced the front of the house and had its heavy crimson drapes drawn banishing the outside world from view. All the seats were occupied whilst one woman and man stood and another woman sat on the bearskin rug that was under the coffee table on the wooden floor.

"This is...unusual by my standards," Ridley mused as she tugged out a notepad and a pen. "Good evening," she greeted frostily as she took in each guest, purposely glancing past Serena who was giving her a mocking smirk, "I'm Detective Moon and this is Detective Delko, we're here about what appears to be a recent homicide on the premises."

"You mean murder," the angry looking Snow White who was sitting between a prince and a Pied Piper grumbled.

Ridley shrugged. "It seems that way. Now, firstly, where are the officers who responded to this call?"

"Officers Gray and Mason," Serena piped up as her grin widened, "I already told you, they're wandering."

"Why?" Eric queried. "What did they tell you?"

"To wait here," Peter Pan murmured as his green eyes darted about nervously, "while they searched the house."

"In case the killer was still here," a teary Rapunzel piped up. She was standing beside Peter Pan.

Ridley shot Eric a quick glance, the officers were meant to secure the area before the CSIs were called, if they hadn't done that why had they called for the CSIs?

"Right, we're going to need all your names and the details about what happened," Eric ordered.

"Is everyone here?" Ridley demanded.

"Of course not," Serena sneered as she leaned back against her chair and folded her arms behind her head. "Chris and Shannon are definitely making out somewhere, and Jade's sneaking a smoke I bet."

"Great," Ridley grumbled. "Okay, a quick list please of the guests and their costumes."

Snow White leaned forward to the coffee table and snatched up one of the cards before standing up and handing it out to Ridley with a glower like it was a prized diamond she thought Ridley would pilfer. "A list of the players," she said coldly, "I made it up myself, and it took a lot of time."

"I can see that," Ridley retorted dryly as she took in its purposely yellowed appearance and impressive calligraphy. It said at the top 'An Unhappy Ever After' followed by a list of names. Ridley accepted the card and started reading off the names- Hostess: Snow White (Lydia Bell), Players: Prince Charming (Niall Brooks), Pied Piper (Liam Jackson), Red Riding Hood (Serena Rivers), Rapunzel (Jessie Bingham), Peter Pan (Harry May), Cinderella (Amanda Fields), Woodsman (Greg Hernaz), Beauty (Jade del Sannio), Puss in Boots (Chris Takamo), Frog Princess (Shannon Woods) and Goldilocks (Sadie Pearlman).

"Right, we need to know who came here, when, in what order, who with, what time," Eric ordered, "and what happened from then right up until now."

Ridley nodded even as she glanced over at him. "We should get the others," she suggested quietly, "I mean they're suspects as well as witnesses."

"Suspects?" Rapunzel choked out as tears started pouring down her cheeks. "I can't go to jail!"

Serena let out a taunting giggle.

"Don't be so dumb Jess," the tired looking Prince Charming Niall scorned her, "none of us are going to jail." He turned a tired, blue look on Ridley and Eric. "We didn't do anything, Sadie went off on her own, probably to snort something," he shrugged off Snow White's disapproving glare, "you know it's true Lydia. Anyway, Jade found the body and we called the cops."

"Right, Ridley do you want to find our missing friends?" Eric queried as he gave her an exasperated look. "Make sure they haven't disappeared down a rabbit hole or off to Narnia."

Ridley nodded sharply before turning and hastening out of the room and away from the madness. She paused as she realised she didn't even know where to begin; the house was huge after all. She supposed outside around the open porch was maybe a good idea as it might be where the smoker Jade was, although she wondered if Jade was the type to care about smoking outdoors especially with such wonderful weather.

She headed up the corridor, back to the main front room, pausing and glancing to the stairs pointedly. 'Where in the hell are those cops?' she wondered, unsure if she was more annoyed about their absence or concerned with it. Why had they left a room full of suspects and potential victims alone? What could have lured them both away? She sighed and continued on her way, ending up in a long, wide kitchen that was a combination of country and modern with a wooden floor, warm, orange-red brick walls, copper pots hanging up that were most definitely never used, a black, marble breakfast bar in the centre with tall, black, leather stools around it and several modern utensils. Ridley eyed a wooden bowl with huge, plump, dark red apples in the middle of the breakfast bar with scorn and wondered if Snow White had put them out as an accessory. She peered closely at them, they were shiny, fresh and juicy looking, all too tempting, in a small pile though there was no prominent one sitting at the top, which might have added to the appeal. Ridley frowned a little as she studied round the breakfast bar, noting a few sticky looking fingerprints on both the bar and on the wooden bowl. She leaned forward and sniffed them curiously and detected a very faint odour of sugar, fruit and alcohol, and realised it was a stain from wine or champagne.

Continuing her hunt round the kitchen she spied a telltale champagne glass sitting in the silver sink, empty and looking like it had been rinsed briskly and abandoned. 'Why?' she wondered. 'The party's just started.'

She headed through the patio doors at the back of the kitchen that led not just to an area covered by a tiled roof and columns that was part of the wraparound porch but extended outwards to a golden tiled patio with steps leading down into a lit turquoise pool. Ridley moved out to the porch, stepping around the column to take in the pool. Her eyes widened and she broke into a run when she saw a telltale shape floating there. She ran down the steps that led into the pool without thinking, and was startled to find the water warm, a heated pool then. She reached out to grasp at the form there. She turned it over, revealing the pale, still face of a young woman, the face was smeared in makeup and at her bare neck were telltale bruises.

Ridley tugged her to the shallows quickly, pushing her against the steps and up onto the patio before she checked for a pulse. There was none. Ridley let out a curse as she tugged out her gun and glanced about the area quickly. The woman was dressed in a gown of green velvet velour with a thin, silver tiara pushed into her brow, held in place by silver combs that were burrowed in her limp, black hair. Ridley took note of a golden ball dangling from a gold chain at her waist, the frog princess she realised as her frown deepened.

She flinched as the rain started to fall again, coming down in heavy fat drops without warning, prompting her to drag the body beneath the porch before hastening for the patio doors. Though she was reluctant to simply leave the body she had little choice. She hurried through the kitchen and into the corridor when suddenly everything went dark as the power cut out.

* * *

"You've got to be kidding!" Calleigh exclaimed in despair when the lights suddenly cut out.

Tim tugged out his phone, using its light to find his box in which several torches were. He tugged them out and flipped them on before giving one to Calleigh and one to Horatio. "This sucks," he grumbled.

"This is straight out of a horror story," the blonde grumbled, smiling when the men gave her a wilting look, "well it is! Creepy house in the middle of nowhere, a storm, a body, slashed tyres, missing cops and now this."

"It is very theatrical," Horatio commented with a hint of approval in his voice that earned a disgusted glance from Tim.

"Are you saying someone's trying to put on a show?" Tim quipped sarcastically.

"It does seem that way," Horatio answered calmly. "A rather distracting one."

Tim glanced towards the shut door they had come through, his mind immediately jumping to Ridley. She had always been uneasy in the dark but lately her fear had been a lot worse. He reminded himself that she was with Eric but then he considered that she and Eric were now in the dark in a room full of murder suspects and his own concern suddenly worsened. "I don't think we should be separate," he murmured, "not until we find those cops and some back up arrives. I mean how many suspects are in this house? More than us probably."

"You're right," Calleigh murmured, "at least if we get them all in the one room no one can tamper with anything but the longer we wait to study the evidence the colder it gets," she countered.

Horatio sighed. "If we can find Officers Gray and Mason and have them watch our room full of suspects and witnesses like they should be doing until backup comes to escort them off the premises then we can do our job."

"Right, well in the mean time can we head to Eric and Ridley?" Tim retorted, his irritation slipping into his voice.

"Alright," Horatio gave in, knowing full well where Tim's concerns lay.

They moved together, using their torches to guide them. Unfortunately it wasn't easy and they soon found themselves in a large dining room with an interesting appearance.

"What the fuck," Tim remarked bluntly as he shone his thin torch beam onto the scene. All six of the dining chairs had been stacked on top of each other, some upside down, on the table.

"I really don't like this house," Calleigh murmured as she felt a shudder run through her.

"This was probably just part of the atmosphere created for the party," Horatio assured.

"A haunted house for a murder mystery?" Calleigh queried in disbelief. "Not how I remember my fairytales, when did everything get so messed up?"

"This house is going to take forever to process," Tim lamented as he continued on.

Eventually they found themselves back in the main front room and headed to the left where the parlour was. Tim wasn't exactly surprised when his turning of the door handle caused someone within to scream.

"Who's out there?" Eric called out boldly.

"It's us!" Calleigh answered brightly.

Tim opened the door to a room lit by Eric's torch and several phones and their installed torches. 'Thank God for modern technology,' Tim thought sardonically. 'And what the hell is everyone wearing?' His eyes scanned across the room quickly as she shone his torch about before he turned to Eric accusingly. "Where's Ridley?" he queried in a brittle calm voice.

"There are three guests missing," Eric explained, "Ridley went to look for them."

Tim turned without a word, walking past Horatio and Calleigh, swallowing down several curses as he did. Of course she was on her own in the dark, of bloody course or worse, she was in the dark with a potential murderer, even better! 'Damnit Delko,' he thought angrily, 'you just couldn't stay together, too bloody sensible.'

* * *

'Right it's just a power cut,' Ridley attempted to reassure herself as she moved slowly with her gun out in one hand and her phone in the other. 'Don't get jumpy there's a whole bunch of people here, you wouldn't want to shoot the wrong one...' She forced herself to take several deep, slow breaths and tried to work out her surroundings, thinking several curses when her foot banged against a stair. 'Well at least you know where you are now,' she thought sarcastically.

There was a loud, horrific scream from upstairs prompting Ridley to jump slightly as she turned up to the gloom.

Her heart was pounding and her breaths were coming out too quickly. 'Ridley you're the frigging cop here,' she attempted to order herself into action. 'You can not be the one panicking!'

Another scream.

'Shit, shit, shit.' She made herself move, one step at a time, as slowly and quietly as she could manage all too aware as to how vulnerable she was. She held her phone pointed down so she could see each time, and cursed mentally when a few steps gave telltale creaks beneath her heels. The journey up seemed to take forever and she knew she should move quicker. 'Someone could be getting killed right now, damnit Ridley move!' She made herself go quicker but she couldn't run, it would be a dead giveaway; caution over haste might save more lives than haste.

She made it up to the second floor and another scream gave her a clue as to which gloomy path to follow, down to the left. She could see a light flickering up ahead and moved a little quicker. "NYPD!" she shouted it out instinctively before she could help herself and kicked open the door. Ridley spotted two cops who she hoped were unconscious on the floor before she turned to the sobbing a woman who was standing holding a candle tightly in one hand as if it might protect her.

'Jade the smoker,' Ridley thought dryly as she took in her attire. She had long dark hair streaked turquoise and was dressed in the classical Disney styled golden dress of Beauty. "I'm Detective Moon," Ridley introduced quickly, "what's going on?"

"Chris has gone mad!" the woman cried out dramatically. "I caught him in here, he did this!" she gestured out to the cops wildly with her free hand.

"Chris, Puss in Boots?" Ridley echoed.

"Right! He was just here! Please, I think he's done something awful, you need to catch him!"

"Which way?"

"Right."

"Wait here," Ridley ordered before she turned and hastened back out into the gloom. She hurried down to the right; her feeble phone her only light source. She let the adrenaline override the fear though she realised he could easily have hidden in a room and so made herself slow down and attempt to look for telltale signs to suggest where he had gone. There to the left, a knocked over table. Bang! She tensed and looked ahead, that had sounded like a door being shut, just ahead on the right. She forced herself to press on. 'It's Miami-Dade,' she reminded herself, 'not NYPD. Shit does it matter? Does he need a frigging warning? Guy's probably armed!' She made it to the door and didn't bother with a warning; instead she pushed down on the handle and forced it open.

Hands came out of the gloom. Something slammed into her stomach and she was in instant pain. Hands grabbing her, pushing her, restraining her. Hands in the dark. He pushed her back hard and she hit the ground. Her gun and phone pointed up at the same time catching his startled face, Asian, somewhere in his early twenties.

"Shit!" he cursed. "You're not...I didn't do anything!" He ran for it.

In the dark, trapped in the dark, alone, vulnerable, in pain. What had he done? She dropped her phone and her hand felt for the wound, there was none, it had been a blunt object, she would have bruising at the worst. 'It could have been a knife,' she thought as she started to shake. 'Through the stomach...' Her hand slid up to where a familiar scar resided. 'Oh shit no one knows I'm up here, fuck who else is up here? It could be anyone...I could be trapped for hours up here! No one will know!' Her hands started trembling and hard as she tried she couldn't stop them and was forced to sheathe her gun.

Fifteen minutes later the lights mercifully came back on and Ridley staggered to her feet just as Jade slipped out into the hall. "Did you get him?" she demanded, a little more sharply that Ridley would have expected. Her brown eyes narrowed as she noted how damp and bloodshot the detective's eyes appeared.

"No," Ridley answered bluntly, "I found him and he said he didn't do anything and ran. What about those cops? Are they alright?"

Jade shrugged. "I don't know, you need to get him, he's gone mad."

"You need to go downstairs to the others," Ridley ordered sternly as she pointed down the hall.

"Alone? What if he's there?" Jade snapped back.

Ridley rolled her eyes before hastening past her back to the room where the cops lay. She was relieved to hear one groan and see another move. She leaned down to them both, doing a quick check for injuries; they both had minor swelling on the back of their skulls from identical looking singular blows. "Guys are you okay?" Ridley demanded.

"Who are you?" one, a blonde somewhere in his thirties queried sleepily as he attempted to push himself upright.

"Detective Ridley Moon," she retorted briskly. "What happened?"

"A girl...said there was someone trapped up here," he grumbled as he finally made it into a sitting position. He touched the back of his skull and winced before his soft, grey eyes fell on Ridley. "That's the last thing I remember," he confessed.

"A girl?" Ridley arched an eyebrow at that.

"Gold dress," the other cop mumbled as he tried to sit.

Ridley hastened back out the door. Jade was gone.

* * *

BANG! BANG! Tim only just managed to stop himself from jumping as the front door was knocked right when he was five feet from it. He looked at it in instant suspicion and approached it cautiously, gun drawn. BANG! BANG!

"Miami-Dade!" a familiar voice called.

Tim lowered his gun slightly before he tugged open the door and gave a small grin. "Welcome to the party Alexx."

"Evening Timmy, sure is a nice night for a party," the medical examiner enthused as she stepped into the house flanked by two helpers and followed by two police officers.

Tim glanced out into the gloom, it was pouring down from the heavens again. "This is going to be a long night," he grumbled. "Horatio and the others are with our suspects in the parlour to the left," he explained hastily. "Head down there, I'll catch up." He turned away from them quickly and looked to the stairs. Would she have wandered up there? His suspicions were answered when she appeared in sight, looking just a little frazzled. "Ridley!" he called out to her.

She glanced from him to Alexx and the others almost blankly before recognition filled her gaze and she hurried down stairs. "The two cops are upstairs," she babbled out too quickly, "they were knocked out but they're fine. There's another body in the pool, was in the pool, and I have a guy dressed as a cat running about who a girl dressed as Beauty claims hurt the cops but the cops say she lured them up there."

"Slow down Ridley," Tim urged as he looked at her eyes, they were wide and the whites were showing and he could see how she struggled to control her breathing.

"Two bodies?" Alexx remarked with an impressed look.

Ridley nodded and Tim took note as to how she suddenly had her arms folded, as he recalled it was a common habit of hers a few months ago to try and hide the trembling of her hands. The dark haired male glanced over at the two cops that had come in with Alexx. "Go upstairs and find the other two cops," he suggested.

The pair nodded before hurrying upstairs. Tim gripped Ridley by her right arm, frowning when she flinched and pulled back from him. "Ridley what happened?" he queried.

"Nothing," she muttered as she shook her head, "what I said, a body in the pool, apples in the kitchen, Beauty and a cat and cops and darkness, all that endless fucking darkness."

Alexx frowned slightly before turning away quickly to face her co-workers. "Let's go to the parlour," she said softly, "and Horatio can take us to the body."

They headed off leaving Ridley and Tim alone awkwardly staring at each other as Tim's hand remained up, his fingertips barely touching Ridley's shoulder. Her eyes were watering now and her lip was trembling, the traces expert realised she was just seconds away from losing it. "Why did you go off alone?" he demanded.

"There were three people missing," she shook her head frantically, "they could have been trapped in the dark, lost for hours before we knew," she swallowed hard as she felt a lump in her throat. "I could have been...I was..."

"Ridley you're only back on the job," he reminded her sternly, "you shouldn't be going off on your own no matter the reason."

"I kept it together!" she snapped back viciously. "I didn't shoot anyone! He was right there, he pushed me but I didn't shoot! He could be innocent, I don't know! It was so dark, I was up there, with him, could've been trapped...I kept it together...Oh God I could have been trapped." She bowed her head as the tears started trickling down her cheeks. "It was so dark, and it just kept going, there was space this time but I couldn't tell, I couldn't see anything...he didn't want me to see!"

Tim finally put away his gun and pulled Ridley close with both hands, his frown deepened when she went stiff and almost resisted. "This was too soon," he murmured into her right ear.

"No," she argued as she tried to pull back from him and failed, "no, I need this. Don't you tell him again, please Tim! I can't have anymore time off, it's tor-" She fell silent and a sob escaped her. "Fuck it's not torture, not even close, I can't use that word but God it gives me all the time in the world to think of the torture. I've had three months down here just remembering, I don't want any more time!"

"Okay," Tim murmured, "okay. Deep breath Ridley, you need to keep it together for a few more hours."

"Don't tell him," she begged.

"I won't," he gave in with a sigh.


	4. Chapter 3- When the Nightmare Wins

"Okay," Horatio commented carefully, "so Lydia Bell decides to host a murder mystery party with a fairytale theme in her uncle's house, the Chimera House. She, Serena Rivers and Jessie Bingham arrive together around four in the afternoon to set things up. Niall Brooks and Liam Jackson arrive together around six, Amanda Fields, Greg Hernaz, and Harry May arrive together around seven, as do Jade del Sannio, Chris Takamo and Shannon Woods. Sadie Pearlman arrives last on her own around half seven. She disappears and is found approximately twenty minutes later by Jade who calls the cops. Officers Mason and Gray respond to the call and then we are called.

"At some point between the cops arriving and us arriving Officers Mason and Gray are lured upstairs by Jade who is claiming she saw a shadow moving upstairs and heard noises. She then claims she left the cops upstairs only to return to find them unconscious and Chris Takamo fleeing the scene; this is when Detective Moon came upon them and found Chris running upstairs and Jade with the unconscious cops. Also, at some point, Shannon Woods met her end; her body was discovered in the pool by Detective Moon."

Horatio fell silent and looked at his team, they were now into the early hours of the morning, the group of costumed suspects were on their way to the police station and the bodies were with Alexx on their way to the morgue. "What else do we know?" he queried calmly.

"That someone wasn't as hungry as they thought," Ridley murmured as she produced an apple with a couple of bites out of it from the bin in a gloved hand. It was sticky and stained and had been hidden beneath several layers of trash.

"What has that got to do with anything?" Eric queried as he wrinkled his nose at the sight of it.

In the light and in familiar company Ridley was suddenly composed and confident again, it reassured Tim a little but he wondered how much effort it was taking her to be so composed and how much of it was simply an act.

Ridley stepped up to the fruit bowl and held the apple out and against the others, it was almost the same, large, plump, shiny and red, save for the bite marks, the brown stain from the air and stains from the bin. "It's fresh," she murmured, "and yet somehow it ended up deep in the trash with only two bites out of it." She gestured to the bowl and the table. "Fingerprints," she murmured, "and there's a barely rinsed wine glass in the sink, a little odd when the party had only started."

"Shall we start asking who couldn't decide if they liked apples or not?" Eric queried sardonically. "My money's on Snow White."

"Or test it for poison," Ridley suggested lightly as she slipped it into a bag for testing. "Maybe someone was taking the fairytales quite seriously tonight."

"Well we will know more once Alexx tells us the cause of deaths for our victims," Horatio murmured as he gave Ridley a slight flicker of a proud smile. "Meanwhile, let's get every inch of this house swabbed, searched and photographed."

"Hey Ridley what way does pairing up work in horror films?" Eric queried teasingly. "Who am I best going with to increase my survival chances?"

Ridley forced a faint smile to her face at the question as she saw Calleigh about to scorn. "Calleigh," she answered brightly. "The blonde female lead usually always survives, although," she shrugged lightly, "I hear Hollywood's being trying to subvert that trope lately; in which case you'll maybe want to stick with the potential lone male survivor."

"Hey Delko this isn't a horror movie," Tim remarked dryly, "it's a crime scene."

"Don't worry I'll protect you from the ghosts," Calleigh teased with a small smile at Eric.

Eric felt a slight flutter in his chest as he smiled back. "Alright."

"We can stick to downstairs, closer to the exit," the blonde added as she gave Tim a mischievous glance.

Tim rolled his eyes and gave a tired shake of his head. "I don't believe in that nonsense," he grumbled as he looked to his superior. "Will we go upstairs then H?"

Horatio hesitated as his blue eyes flickered from Tim to Ridley who had a frozen expression as if afraid of portraying some emotion on her face. 'Annoyance? Fear? Relief?' Horatio pondered. He could see the bloodshot look in her eyes and the slight tremble in her hands that she was trying to suppress. 'The lights went out,' he thought calmly, 'did she panic over it?' He looked to Tim again, giving him a serious, questioning stare.

To his credit Tim did not flinch at the stare or show anything revealing on his face which he kept carefully deadpan but he knew what Horatio's face meant, he had guessed at Ridley's freak out and it would not be long before he demanded confirmation of it. Tim cursed several times in his head as he pondered over what to do. He recalled how Ridley had fallen out with him the last time and then there was the desperation in her eyes, that fear not of the darkness or a killer but of being alone with her thoughts. He filled with guilt, if he told Horatio he was betraying her again but if he didn't... He didn't want her upstairs wandering about but if he went up with just Horatio the redhead would definitely wheedle the truth out of him. He clenched his fists slightly before going back on his decision to see Ridley left downstairs in a more secure position. "You, me and Ridley?" he quipped calmly.

"Right," Horatio retorted smoothly with a nod.

The three headed out of the kitchen and back to the stairs. They headed up and processed each room painfully slow and mostly in an awkward silence. Ridley let Horatio and Tim do their CSI side of things, commenting in a flat tone about how she had found the cops and Jade and then Chris. Almost two hours trickled by before they continued on their journey, Ridley uncovered an old wooden door behind heavy, red, velvet curtains at the end of the corridor to the right. There was a table with a vase sitting in front of them and it was only out of curiosity that she found the door. It was stiff but unlocked and opened to reveal an old iron staircase.

"If the walls start bleeding I'm quitting," she muttered sardonically as Horatio took the lead. There was no light switch although the narrow passageway seemed too old for electricity, which was a little odd.

As they walked they noticed how the stairs were heavy with dust and were quick to create their shoe prints. There were no other prints, none left on the cobwebbed walls or dusty staircase and Tim felt it was highly unlikely they were going to find any evidence up here.

"I can't imagine they even knew about this place," he muttered, "and even if they did why would they come up here?"

"It's a good place to hide a murder weapon," Horatio mused.

"There was a bearskin in the parlour," Ridley remarked suddenly, "I didn't really register it but all the claws were missing, Eric took photos."

Horatio glanced over his shoulder slightly at the female detective, barely making out her face in the gloom; it was an odd greyish-white in the faint light of her phone's torch. "So Goldilocks maybe was attacked by a bear or at least part of one," he retorted coolly. He turned back to the top of the stairs where another heavy, old door blocked their way. He reached out and twisted the knob, it was so stiff for a moment he thought it was locked but then it creaked and with a rough shove he managed to make it give way. "Got any matches Tim?" he queried calmly as his phone's light danced over several objects, settling on the dust coated candle sitting with half its wax hardened about it and marring the silver dish it rested in.

"I have a lighter," Tim retorted as he tugged it out and headed up to the candle. A couple of clicks and a yellow flame sparked into life. He lit the candle and handed it to Horatio. "This is getting ridiculous," he grumbled.

They moved through the attic carefully, pausing to shine their lights over certain objects. The whole area looked like it had been trapped in time. Ridley flinched at the forms beneath white sheets that looked like they could be figures. She paused when she saw dark brown stains on one and dared to reach out a hand.

Horatio watched as Ridley's right hand started trembling before she could help it. He saw her jaw tighten as she tried and failed to stop the quivering. Yet she persisted, fulfilling his, Tim's and her own morbid curiosity. They all regretted it when she finally grasped the sheet and tugged it down sending a momentary cloud of dust into the air.

"Oh my God," she stammered as she stumbled back from the thing.

It was a mummified body; the clothes mostly rotted to tatters thought there were enough scraps to indicate some sort of dress with an apron. The hair had grown down past the waist though it was faded and thin, on her face, for the shape of the body indicated a she, was a stretched out, eerie grin with stitches at either side of it. In one hand a teacup was clutched, hanging down by the handle in a rigid grasp, it looked porcelain and was full of spider eggs and dust, and at her feet was a small skeleton body of some animal.

Ridley turned away in horror, giving the open a door a desperate glance. Was it closing? Her heart was pounding hard as she found herself stumbling towards it away from the form. A woman trapped in the dark, alone, forgotten, suffering. "Shit," she cursed as she tried to grasp the door handle and failed. She shook her head several times as if to clear the image from her mind.

"Detective Moon do you need to go downstairs?" Horatio queried calmly.

Downstairs, out of the dark, away from the prison. She nodded wordlessly and hastened down the metal staircase.

Tim watched her go with a worried stare before he turned his brown gaze on the body. "How long has this thing been up here?" he wondered aloud as he raised his camera. He took a photo, wincing slightly at the flash. He lowered his camera and brought up the photo on it. "Shit!" he exclaimed as he looked up from it in alarm.

"What?" Horatio demanded as he hastened forward.

"Nothing," Tim answered nervously as he realised the face staring in the background of the photo was just a doll's head. "Calleigh's right, this place...well it's probably too ideal for scary parties," he finished lamely.

"Well at least we know who has been haunting it," Horatio retorted a small smile.

Tim shook his head chidingly. "Not cool H."

"Tim was Ridley unnerved by the lights going off?" Horatio demanded suddenly.

Tim met his superior's stare with his best poker face. "I don't know, I wasn't with her, I was with you guys, remember?" Tim retorted, praising himself internally for not sounding like he had something to hide.

"Yes, she was on her own looking for the missing guests but then she joined you and Alexx by the front door." Horatio held Tim's gaze and gave him a serious stare. "Tim if she has given you any indication tonight that she is still unstable you need to let me know."

"Has she given you any?" Tim retorted heatedly.

"Yes," Horatio didn't hesitate to answer, "the whites of her eyes are showing, she's trying to hide the fact that her hands are trembling, and she fled here despite it being a crime scene. Tim, I'm ordering her off the case regardless of what you tell me it would just be helpful to know if there have been any other issues tonight."

"Why?" Tim queried numbly as he lowered his camera and frowned at the floor. "What does it matter if you're ordering her off?"

"She needs help and in order to help her it's good to know what triggers her, what upsets her most."

"Being alone with her thoughts and her memories upsets her most," Tim grumbled darkly.

Horatio nodded. "I know that," he said sympathetically, "but if she's unstable then she's dangerous on this case, and I appreciate she has done her best tonight and so far she has discovered quite a lot, she's still a great detective Tim and I will be letting her know that but if she's not one hundred percent she's only going to do the case and herself harm."

"I know," Tim muttered, "but if you could tell her I didn't blab this time but you figured it out and then asked that would be good."

"I will," Horatio assured.

Tim let out a heavy sigh. "When she found me and Alexx she was talking too quickly and then she started babbling about the dark, she admitted to me that she had held it together with that Chris kid but barely H, she started to lose it with me."

"Alright. Now let's get what we can out of this and rejoin Detective Moon."

It took thirty precious minutes and during them Ridley stood at the bottom of the staircase in the hall, rigid and huddled close to one of the electric lights hanging against the walls, her eyes darting about nervously at every creak and groan.

When Horatio and Tim came down the redhead was quick to take her to one side. "Ridley," he said gently, "I want you to go home, Tim will take you."

"What?" Her eyes went wide and Horatio felt a spark of guilt at the betrayal that filled her grey-brown gaze.

"Ridley it's not your fault," he assured, "but you can't stay on this case."

"No!" She started a protest as her angry eyes looked past Horatio to Tim.

"It wasn't Detective Speedle," Horatio said calmly, "I can see for myself that your hands are trembling, and you're frightened to the point of being unable to stay and process a crime scene correctly."

"I was startled," she snarled back moodily, "I wasn't expecting a mummy up there, were you?"

"No," he retorted, still calm, "but we're detectives Ridley; we can't afford to run from bodies like characters in a horror movie."

"She was trapped in the dark for hours," Ridley stammered out as she felt her eyes burn much to her chagrin, "I know what that's like, you don't! For hours," she repeated, "alone, suffocating, suffering, twice it's happened to me. Twice! So I'm sorry that I can't quite repress it but making me sit at home thinking about it won't help!" She glowered up at him hatefully, willing him to understand. "That's all I do at home, replay it all in my mind, over and over and over because I have nothing to distract me."

"One week," Horatio said sternly, "then we can talk about some part time work with Yelina and Frank."

She shook her head in defeat. "You have no idea what it's like," she choked out, "it still hurts sometimes, I'll get a sharp pang or just a dull ache that lasts for hours, they say it's a combination of the permanent scarring he caused and my own memories creating the pain. It's a vicious circle, I feel the pain and I'm instantly reminded of all the things he did."

"I am sorry Ridley," the redhead retorted sombrely. "You have done great work tonight and it won't go unnoticed and you will be kept informed of the case but you can't stay working on it. It's my fault; I pushed you too hard, too soon with this." He turned away from her and looked to Tim who was scowling behind him. "Take her home Detective Speedle, I will see you this afternoon to go over the results in the lab."

Tim nodded stiffly before stepping up to Ridley, he held out a hand which she predictably ignored before walking to the main staircase. They headed downstairs hastily and stepped out to a soggy, grey dawn. Tim felt it was all too appropriate as he got into his car and started up the engine.

The drive to Ridley's house was predictably awkward and silent. Ridley just stared out the window dully without a single word and didn't even wait for Tim to speak when he pulled into her drive before she got out of the car. He followed of course, more than a little annoyed that she was making him suffer her anger. He frowned when she stopped in the porch to turn back to him with a bloodshot glower. "Thanks for the lift," she said stiffly.

"Ridley don't take it out on me," he said tiredly, "I didn't tell Horatio on you but for the record he is right and you know that. If it was one of us instead you would agree we weren't fit for the case."

"Why did you guys want me down in Miami?" she demanded fiercely. "Did you think the sunshine would make the memories and nightmares magically vanish?"

"No," he answered with a taken back look.

"Well what then? Am I your New York mascot?" she sneered sardonically. "Here for show?"

"Ridley don't," he retorted crossly. "You know this is for your own good and you know we all want you back at work with us but you can't work in this state, it's dangerous for the case and for you."

"The memories are never going to go away," she spat out angrily.

"No but you will learn to deal with them," Tim assured, "and we will help with that. Look, just relax for a week, go to the therapy and make an effort and then you can do some work with Frank and Yelina like Horatio said."

She turned to her door wordlessly, tugged out her keys and unlocked it. When she stepped in and slammed the door in his face he folded his arms and scowled before shouting, "I'll pick you up at seven for the cinema but I'm not paying for popcorn now!" He stormed back to his car angrily, he was thoroughly fed up with the woman's attitude but he understood it and knew he would probably be worse in her situation. Still it was getting difficult to put up with her hostility and her frosty distancing of herself from him. 'One normal bloody date,' he thought as he started up the engine, 'that's all I want, why is it like pulling teeth out of a gator?'

As he drove off he was completely unaware of the fact that Ridley was now slumped up against her door with her knees pulled in against herself as she sobbed loudly into them.

* * *

It was closer to half seven when Tim finally reappeared at Ridley's house. He pressed the bell, scratching behind the back of his neck awkwardly as he waited for her. She answered looking a hell of a lot better than she had when he had left her off; it gave him a glimmer of hope. She was wearing a silk, pale blue shirt and a flattering, pleated, black skirt with shiny, black, heeled shoes and the carousel patterned scarf he had gotten her as a present. Her hair was down and poker straight and she had smoky eye shadow on, yet her gaze was grim despite the faint, forced smile she gave.

"Are you ready to go?" he quipped politely. He had made an effort too; well an effort for him, jeans, freshly washed ones, and a newish black shirt, hell he had even shaved, something he knew Eric was liable to tease him about relentlessly tomorrow.

Ridley nodded as she stepped out and closed the door behind her, taking care to lock it before she slipped the keys into her dark blue satchel. Tim rolled his eyes at the satchel, it had to be the most impracticable bag he had ever seen, you had to undo its two buckles every time to open and close it and even when it was closed it wasn't exactly sealed up, not the way a zipper bag was. Yet Ridley seemed to adore it but Ridley was widely known for her impractical outfits and accessories.

"How did today go?" she pried quietly.

"Well," he retorted wearily, "you were right about the apple, drugged, and it was Goldilocks who took a bite and found it really wasn't just right."

Ridley shook her head at the lame joke before she opened the passenger door and slipped into the car. Tim climbed in and started up the engine before continuing on. "We found her prints, Snow White's and Rapunzel's all present on the breakfast bar and the apple bowl. Snow White put the apples out and as Rapunzel confessed, when Horatio made it clear her ivy league future wouldn't be happening if she didn't start talking, she drugged the apple, just the one at the top because, and I quote, 'Sadie was a greedy pig and a man stealer' but it was just a sleeping drug, she wanted Goldilocks out for the count so she would leave Peter Pan alone. Yes, I know, totally screwed up."

"That's not what killed her though," Ridley murmured thoughtfully.

"Nope, it just made her vulnerable for the killer, we eventually found the bear claws, guess where."

"The pool," Ridley replied as her eyes widened slightly.

"Uh huh." Tim nodded. "No blood on them of course or prints but Alexx was able to make a match, most of the marks were for show, the ones at the throat killed her. Jade found the body but Shannon probably found the killer depositing the evidence."

"And they choked her," Ridley commented quietly.

"Yep, but here's the problem, no one's hands seem to match the ones that strangled Shannon, so we're a bit stumped," he confessed with a sigh. "And as for the mummy upstairs, Alexx is still working on that but Snow White, after she woke up from her very dramatic fainting, says she has no idea of any history of anyone going missing in the house. No one knows anything about the slashed tyres, power cut or moved furniture either and Chris and Jade are blaming each other for our unconscious cops. I think they're all guilty."

"No." Ridley shook her head. "It's wrong."

"What's wrong?" he quipped calmly as he turned off the main road to the right.

"We went about it wrong," she paused and added angrily, "I mean you guys went about it wrong."

"Gee thanks," Tim retorted sarcastically.

"Well you're assuming the only ones in the house were the ones on the list," she pointed out.

"Oh?" Tim gave her a thoughtful look before pulling up to the cinema.

"It would hardly be the first party to have uninvited guests," she continued dryly. "Although you guys clearly don't need my help on this I suggest finding out who might have been invited then uninvited or who the group knew who would have a problem with Sadie."

"Come on Ridley," Tim chided as he picked a parking space close to the brick building, "stop taking this so personally."

"Wouldn't you?" she retorted angrily.

"Yes, okay, I would," he admitted grudgingly as he held her fiery glower, "but you know it's not like that. I want you on the case, we all do but you freaked out more than once and it's not good."

"The power went out and I was alarmed, I admit it but what do you expect? I've seen Calleigh freak out at ants!" Ridley retorted angrily.

"Ridley let's not do this tonight," Tim protested.

"Why because you want to go to the cinema and pretend things are normal?" she snapped viciously as she continued to glare at him. "Well they're not Tim! I can't date you," she choked out, "I want to but I can't because every time you get too...close to doing something all I can feel is him inside me and it makes me sick."

Tim turned away from her, pressing his right hand down hard on the steering wheel as he stared out at the cinema coldly. "I know," he confessed, "and I'm doing the best I can not to...to take things too far."

"I know Tim," she murmured softly, "but it's not fair to you, it's been six months, you need a girlfriend who can give you everything."

He glanced back at her sharply with a look of hurt. "I'm not just looking for sex you know," he retorted defensively.

"I know," she assured, "but it is a basic need and you can't pretend you don't have urges, everyone gets urges. And I...I don't know if I'll...well if I'll ever be able to deal with that normally again and I'm not going to make you wait forever to find out."

"I can be patient Ridley."

She shook her head. "It's not just that, it's all this business with my job as well, if I'm going to persuade Horatio to let me back I need to make an effort, without distractions."

"So I'm just a distraction now?" he retorted angrily. "Thanks a lot Ridley."

"No, that's not what I meant," she babbled awkwardly as she bowed her head.

"Ridley I waited three months for you to come down here, I had women trying to date me but I turned them down, I waited for you because I like you, we have fun together and I'm willing to keep making the effort but not if you aren't. I'm happy to take things slow, I think I've made that clear the three months you have been here but if you're going to just give up then I will too because it's draining me now. Look we're at the cinema so make the decision, we can get out of the car and try to have a good night together or I can take you home and we can just be friends."

Ridley filled with embarrassment as she felt the tears trickle down her cheeks. She wanted to be with him, of course she did, she loved getting noodles with him and bundling up in one of his shirts, she adored the small, rare smiles he gave her, and the fact that he was willing to watch old detective movies with her even though he despised them. This was Tim, the same Tim who had gotten her a giraffe teddy to keep her company in hospital because he remembered her telling him they were her favourite animal, the same Tim who had gotten her a scarf to hide her scars when her necklace was broken because he knew how important it was to her to keep that part of herself hidden, the same Tim who had flown from Miami to New York to bring her to Miami for Christmas because he didn't want her to be alone over the holidays. Yet she knew it was unfair to keep him with her when she couldn't give him what he needed and deserved, what it was only natural for a girlfriend to give, and it was far too complicated with them sharing jobs, she couldn't help resenting him over her being kicked off the team, hating him for being able to go to work whilst she had to sit at home. It just wasn't right or fair.

"Take me home," she said miserably.


	5. Chapter 4- Down the Rabbit Hole

August 20th, Horatio found it hard to believe that summer was almost over. It had been a largely unpleasant and lengthy one with more rain than sun though the golden skies Miami was famed for had finally returned. He was hoping for the return of something else too, specifically a detective who he missed stealing his parking space.

The beautiful half-Italian, Greek sitting opposite Horatio smiled across the white coffee table at him and remarked calmly, "Horatio I don't think I've ever seen you so troubled about a woman before."

Horatio tipped his trademark glasses down to glance across the table at Yelina with a wry look. "I'm not troubled," he retorted serenely.

Yelina smiled as she leaned back in her white painted chair and crossed one leg over the other. They were on a break together outside Yelina's favourite cafe enjoying the summer Miami sun. The purpose of the break was to discuss Detective Moon's progress over the past few weeks.

After Ridley's theory had proved right about an uninvited party guest at the murder mystery party, Horatio had ensured his superiors didn't question her stability or taking more leave, though he had stuck firmly to his order of her taking a week off and when she was ready to return he had insured she had his recommendations but equally made it clear that she only got handled 'normal cases'.

Her theory had led to the successful arrest and conviction of one Mark Holly, a jilted ex-boyfriend of Sadie Pearlman's who also despised hostess Lydia Bell for being an elitist bitch who had incidentally been making his social life hell it turned out. He had ridden his motorbike in the early evening, dumping it close to the house and walked the rest of the journey on foot, risky given the weather and the darkness, and then, high on drugs, he had gone from his initial plan to simply 'screw up the party' and murdered Sadie when he had found her unconscious and entirely too vulnerable. Shannon had then paid a fatal price when she had caught him by the pool dumping the bear claws; he had panicked and choked her without even thinking about it. He had hidden when the cops had arrived, panicked again, knocked them out, slashed everyone's tyres and then fled the scene, escaping on his bike. It didn't explain the power cut or the moved furniture but the CSIs were happy to accept the storm as the reason behind the lights going out and one of the guests playing a prank as a reason for the furniture.

"We're getting side tracked," Horatio chided gently as he pushed his glasses up once more and glanced out at the dark glistening ocean that was just visible across the road.

"I already told you Ridley's doing great; you want her on this new case don't you?" Yelina pried. "That's what you're asking me about her."

Horatio took a moment to think over his answer. This latest case, another bout of weird, dangerous and disturbing, it had prompted him to look into Ridley's past cases carefully and then her psych reports all over again as he wondered if she should, could and would handle it, if it really was her expertise. He didn't want to stereotype her the way New York had and yet, she did seem to excel with odd cases better than anyone else he knew. She did her research, she knew the myths and lore that criminals turned into a troubling reality and she had a certain sixth sense about her, when she speculated it always seemed to be right on the mark, not that Horatio could approve of theory over evidence. Oh sure, they went with theories a lot in Miami but still, evidence was concrete, theories were risky.

"I don't know," he admitted as he turned back to Yelina. "She was fragile and that's my fault," he continued softly. "I don't want to have her pushed over the edge again but equally I don't want to smother her talents and wrap her in wool, it's too late for that anyway. I had a good team with her Yelina before the Suburban Legends killer got her, now I'm not so sure."

"Why?" Yelina queried calmly before she took a sip from her cappuccino.

"Well human nature for one," Horatio admitted grimly, "my team were more than friends at one point, it was foolish but I didn't stop it, and now they're not."

Yelina shook her head disapprovingly. "That's your problem Horatio," she scolded him, "you see things too much in black and white sometimes, you think colleagues should just be colleagues, it's nice on paper but it doesn't work and no one understands this life we live better than someone else living it with us. It's not unique to our profession either; no matter where you work you will find work colleagues that also hang out as friends."

"But when you run the risk of turning that friendship into something more there are consequences," Horatio replied bitterly. It was a risk he had thought about numerous times but had never taken, there was the professional relationship to consider but also the murkiness of familial ties that he felt he would dishonouring and risking. Yelina was his late brother's ex-wife after all and yet Horatio had constantly wondered if Ray really would disapprove? And what if it could work out between them? Was he not risking loneliness and unhappiness if he didn't try?

Yet Ridley and Tim had tried, and Calleigh and Eric had tried, Horatio knew that even if they thought he didn't, and now...now it was all complicated and messy. Alright, they were dealing with it well, Calleigh and Eric were still admirable friends and there was definitely a spark very much present and Horatio didn't think they had given up like Tim and Ridley but what about if he brought Ridley back to the fold? What then? She still socialised with Calleigh but he didn't think she was there when Calleigh, Tim and Eric went to a bar after work or a cafe, it was probably as simple as circumstance, she worked different shifts and when she wasn't working she was in therapy or at home but Horatio had to consider the possibility of unpleasantness between her and Tim.

"They're all professionals," Yelina reminded him. "Look, Ridley's fantastic on homicide cases and if you want her to stay with us she will excel but there is a hunger for her eyes to go back to you, even Frank's noticed it. She's being trying very hard, she practises her shooting, she trains at the gym and she's been very good at keeping up with her therapy and the psychiatrist's advice and it has been working. It's been four weeks since you ordered her off the team, give her another chance."

"I didn't order her off the team," the redhead replied defensively, "just off the abnormal."

"And now you've got abnormal in a big way and you need her on the team to solve it," Yelina reminded him as she finished her cappuccino at last. "A celebrity's daughter from Vegas, that's big."

"Our victim is the same as any other," Horatio downplayed Yelina's awe.

"She wasn't a nobody," Yelina chided.

"No victim is a nobody," Horatio replied calmly. Although Yelina was right; the daughter of a wealthy, well known singer, a minor celebrity in Nevada and a major celebrity in the city of sin, a girl who one would have thought could have been afforded better protection.

"Well you've had three days with this," Yelina reminded him as she leaned down and reached for her white handbag at last, "and what progress have you made?"

"Some," he replied neutrally as he tugged out his wallet before Yelina could reach for her purse, opened it and threw several notes down.

"Enough that you could keep going without Ridley?" Yelina prompted. "If you can do without her on the case then go ahead, don't stress about it, give her another month if you think that's what she needs, I can't lie and say she won't be hurt about it but that's the nature of the job. Frank and I will keep her busy though, don't worry about that."

Horatio sighed as he put his wallet away again. "It's not just about her feelings," he muttered, "although you are right, she won't forgive me if I keep her from a case like this-"

"Which with anyone else you could deal with," Yelina interrupted as her piercing brown eyes cut into him, "but not her, why is that? If this were Calleigh, Eric or Speedle, you'd let them get angry about it and accept their misplaced hate but not Ridley." The suspicion was there again, no matter how many times Horatio tried to abate it, it wouldn't quite go away with Yelina. The redhead knew it never would unless he explained his complicated history with Ridley to Yelina but he wasn't prepared to do that, it would be unfair to Ridley.

"I've let her down enough times," was all Horatio would confess. "That's not the point though, the point is I could keep her from the case and it might cost us, something that only Ridley could figure out might be missed. Without Calleigh we could miss a weapon, without Speed we could miss important trace evidence and without Eric we could miss the hidden evidence."

Yelina nodded though the suspicion remained simmering in her beautiful, Italian eyes. Everything about Yelina was exotic and charming to Horatio, she had a certain natural beauty that no one else in the city did, Yelina's soft, golden skin wasn't seasonal, it came from the swarthy natives of Greece and Italy as did her long, natural chocolate brown curls and that confident, glowing appeal that many Italian women seemed to be blessed with. Yelina wore her beauty with ease, so used to it she didn't even seem to realise the effect it had on men.

"Well Horatio, it's your choice," she reminded him softly, "you are the Lieutenant after all but you did persuade Ridley to transfer down here, if you didn't think she was ready perhaps you should have waited before encouraging her to quit New York."

Horatio kept his emotions carefully hidden though Yelina had hit a sore mark with her comment. Why did she always have to be right? 'Well it's part of the reason why you go to her for advice,' he thought to himself dryly. 'I had Ridley come here to spare her from New York, I was protecting her from those cops who abandoned her,' he realised, 'but I never thought about what would come after, I knew it would be hard work for her but I didn't think about how hard. New home, new job, and all those memories to deal with, it might have been better in New York, she probably knew how to distract herself there, she probably learned after Detective Silver's demise but here she wouldn't know where to go to occupy her thoughts, where to hang out and when and who with. It was silly of me to expect her to just slip into her new life so soon and it's unfair of me to penalise her for struggling with it.'

"Okay," he decided aloud, "she can join the case, providing my team agree to report any signs of trouble with her, no matter how small. First sign and she's back to you and Frank, I won't make her go off again unless it's really necessary," he allowed, "since it does her more harm than good anyway." He wouldn't forget how on her second day of forced leave she had greeted him sullenly with a few choice curse words and after an hour or so had lost her temper altogether and purposely chucked her badge at him. It had hit him squarely on the nose and stung at the time though he had not reacted to it, save to pick it up, rub it clean with his sleeve and press it back into her hand tightly, assuring her that he did not give out Miami-Dade badges lightly.

* * *

At exactly 15:03 Horatio went to Ridley's house and informed her of his desire for her to rejoin the case. It was a lengthy hour as he went over the case in loose detail with her, made assurances of his belief in her abilities to handle the case, accepted her suspicion and scorn in response and her tart retort that he wasn't going to pick her up and throw her down again like a yo-yo.

At 18:20 Ridley stepped into the crime lab with Horatio to go over the photos of the crime scene. Horatio was not just waiting for her reactions to the crime scene but her reactions to the team as well.

They entered the lab as Tim was mid-sentence with someone on his mobile. "I'll pick you up at eight, yeah-" He paused and looked over at them awkwardly, his brown eyes settling on Ridley with a degree of surprise before a voice down the phone drew his attention back to the call. "What? Sorry, eight, look I've got to go, work, see you later Serena." He hung up the phone and immediately turned his attention to the blue dress laid out before him, freshly printed and tested; now he was comparing the blood spatters on it to the blood spatters in the photographs beside it.

'Serena,' Ridley thought numbly as she purposely looked from him to Eric who was just opposite trying a little too hard to busy himself with the results from scrapings of stone found at the crime scene, which he had now identified as quartz.

"Speed, could you show Detective Moon the photos of the crime scene please?" Horatio ordered calmly as he tugged off his shades and headed towards Eric.

Speed visibly flinched before glancing up with a calm expression and nodding. "Sure," he murmured before walking off from the bloody dress to a lit up table at the back of the lab where all the photos were placed out.

Ridley followed after him, taking care to keep a gap between him and herself when she stood round to face the photographs. She studied them silently for a moment, they depicted a girl, around sixteen or seventeen with long, dyed blonde hair lying propped up against the metal stand of a billboard. She was clad in a blue dress with a white apron and a frilled, white petticoat that came short above her knees, the apron and dress were spattered with blood. The girl's legs were parted to show the fact that she had no underwear on, and on her legs were stripped black and white socks that went to her knees and on her feet were thick heeled, blue, glittering shoes. She also wore a black hair band with a gigantic, blue bow on it, in her lap was a decapitated white rabbit and in her left hand she was clutching an empty, porcelain cup. Worst of all, her eyes had been gouged out, and there were slashes down her arms and legs and a pool of blood beneath her suggesting damage in an intimate area, she also looked wet and was stained with something faded and brown as well as the blood.

There was also a photograph showing a note made crudely from font cut out from newspapers and magazines, there was a passage in black with quotation marks, 'for it might end, you know,' said Alice to herself, `in my going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be like then?' following by words in bold, red, all capitals- IMPERFECT ALICE WAS FOUND. THE ART HAS IMPROVED. PERFECT ALICE ENJOYED TEA.'

Ridley swallowed hard, she recognised the scene, she had had nightmares about it for two nights before the old terrors had returned. "It's just like in the attic of the Chimera House," she said coldly. "A teacup, a dress with an apron and a small animal's body."

"Yes, weird thing is we never made that body public," Tim commented sardonically, "and that skeleton from that house was also a rabbit." He rubbed his nose briefly with one hand; Ridley recognised it well as a sign of his desire to hurry on with things.

"You don't have to be uncomfortable," she said softly.

He gave her a brief awkward glance; they hadn't talked since he had taken her home from the cinema. He had thought about ringing, texting or visiting her but she had made the call to not date and he had accepted it so he didn't contact her. For a while he had hoped she would make contact with him but she hadn't and that had made him angry, and then upset.

Calleigh had given Tim her usual scorn over the matter, prompting him to retaliate, leading to a heated argument Eric had broken up. For a while things had been tensed amongst the three of them, Eric was Tim's best friend but he was obviously trying to form a relationship beyond friendship with Calleigh so it made it difficult for him to get involved, plus his opinion was that both CSIs were equally wrong and right about the matter of Ridley. He then reminded them both that only he had any idea what Ridley was going through, and that was a glimmer of an idea at best.

"I'm seeing someone," the words came out bluntly before he could help it.

"That's okay," she retorted calmly, not a hint of anger, remorse or guilt in her voice.

That just made Tim angrier, wasn't she bothered by that? "Serena," he continued, more to bait her than give her an explanation, "from the murder mystery party if you were wondering. She came by for her police photograph, said it would make a good profile picture and we got to talking."

"You don't need to explain," Ridley assured with a vague, half-smile. "I'm the one that ended things; you're entitled to move on."

"Things never started," Tim said unkindly before he turned away from her. He had only been seeing Serena for a handful of days and had been contemplating ending things tonight because he knew she was just a rebound but now, now he wanted to keep her seeing her, if Ridley wasn't bothered by it why should he be? "Anyway," he continued on, his professionalism back in place, "the victim is one Estella van le Rael, she came here from Vegas without her parents' permission for a wild weekend with friends. She was last seen on the Saturday night at the Palms Beach Club, friends say she started hanging out with a large group they didn't know, got close to a couple of guys and at some point vanished. She was found around two in the afternoon the next day by a dog walker, Alexx puts her time of death at probably just a couple of hours prior to that."

"What was the cause of death?" Ridley queried coolly, forcing herself to be just as professional.

Tim glanced at her once more, this time out of the corner of his eye, hoping to catch a shred of emotion in her brown-grey gaze but there was nothing. He took a careful step to the left away from her, making a pretence of reaching out to tap one of the photographs, a close up of the teacup. The truth was the smell of her vanilla perfume was beginning to grate on him, he couldn't count the amount of times he had moped about his house thinking of that smell while she in New York.

"The girl was eighty percent tea," Tim commented sardonically, "LSD laced tea in fact, it certainly contributed to her death but Alexx went with blunt force trauma and blood she er..." He faltered, his anger towards Ridley slipping slightly as he tried to think of a way to continue telling her about the case, all too aware as to how close Horatio was standing to them now, waiting for Ridley's reaction. "She was raped and then violated with something sharp."

Ridley paled just a little but there was no tremble in her hands, no widening of her eyes and not even a whimper of protest. "Vulgar," she replied swiftly, "and no traces of the attacker's DNA I'm guessing."

"None," Tim answered flatly, unsure if he should be relieved by Ridley's lack of reaction or not.

The door opened and Calleigh hastened in. "Sorry I'm late guys," she commented chirpily, "there was a gang war downtown, six victims and four different guns to match bullets up to, a bit messy."

"That's alright Calleigh, you're here now," Horatio answered smoothly.

Calleigh's clear blues filled with joy at the sight of Ridley before a smile broke out across her face as she hastened to her friend. "Ridley!" she squealed in delight. "About time you came back here, it's no fun with just men!"

Ridley smiled warmly back and welcomed Calleigh's brief hug before they broke and turned to Horatio expectantly. Calleigh shot him a slight accusatory look as she wondered why he hadn't told her that he was bringing Ridley onto the case. She supposed he had known Calleigh wouldn't be able to resist telling Ridley before he could.

Tim glanced at his watch, his shift was almost over and he knew he had to go home, shower and change before meeting Serena but this was Ridley's first day back, well first day back again if he wanted to be picky. Truthfully he would feel bad leaving Ridley, it was like abandoning her to the wolves, he should be here for her, supporting her as he had promised he would.

'I should at least stay as a friend,' Tim thought guiltily, 'but then I'm putting Serena on hold for her and that's exactly what Ridley didn't want me doing. She made the choice.' He frowned and looked at the others calmly as he lowered his hand.

"Anyway, my shift is over," he announced, his frown deepening at Calleigh's glower.

"Have fun tonight man," Eric commented sincerely. "Are you going anywhere exciting?" Eric winced at the look of disapproval that earned him from Calleigh and gave Ridley an apologetic look that she avoided.

"The cinema," Tim answered flatly. He realised his mistake when Calleigh started shooting him daggers but stubbornly refused to look apologetic about it and deliberately did not look Ridley's way. "Have fun," he added dryly before heading for the doors.

Ridley watched him go, feeling a pang of regret as he took the smell, his smell, of chestnuts, leather and the salty Miami air with him. 'I want to go to the cinema with you and be normal,' she thought forlornly, 'but I can't, because it wouldn't be normal and that wouldn't be fair to you.'

* * *

10:21 found Ridley, Calleigh and Eric standing in the bar area of the Seahorse Lagoon, they had come at Calleigh's insistence for one drink.

"Real subtle theme here," Ridley commented dryly as she took in the scantily clad waitresses and barmen. The waitresses had palm leaves for bras and bottoms whilst the barmen wore shorts. The bar was themed with sparkling palm trees made of foil, beach balls placed at the back of the chairs, coconuts and seashells dangling from the ceiling and dried starfish and seahorses sitting beneath the glass bar top on a layer of sand and gold glitter.

"Miami, palm trees, beaches," Eric mused with a nod of approval as his warm gaze lingered on some of the waitresses. "I like places that are open about what they're selling," he joked.

"Sun, sand and sex," Calleigh remarked disapprovingly, "that's Miami all over." She sipped thoughtfully at a glass of white wine as she gave Ridley a small smile. "It's good to have you back," she said sincerely.

Ridley nodded appreciatively. "It's good to be back."

"It's been dull without you Ridley," Eric jested with a grin.

Calleigh nodded in agreement before leaning into Ridley slightly. The three were occupying a round, glass table, Calleigh and Ridley sat at the back side by side on the sea blue, leather chairs, which were actually just one long bench against the wall, whilst Eric sat opposite on a sea green, leather stool. "I'm sorry about Speedle," she commented quietly with a sympathetic look. "I wanted to tell you I just...wasn't sure how."

"It's okay," Ridley said as she waved off Calleigh's concern. She grasped her thin stem and was quick to take a deep sip to give herself a moment to consider her next words. The truth was it stung right to core but that was her fault and her problem, she had sent Tim away knowing the pain that would follow. "I...I ended it," she confessed. She flashed a look at Eric who sighed.

"We know," Eric confessed, "Tim told me and..." He paused and glanced at Calleigh.

"And Eric told me," Calleigh confessed with an apologetic look. "Sorry," she added hastily. "I get it Ridley, it's been so hard for you but you and Tim, I mean, don't you want to be with him?"

"I do," Ridley murmured, "but I...I can't." She bowed her head miserably before taking yet another deep sip. "It's too hard after what happened, I'm always having flashbacks and it just makes me sick. Tim waited six months, it wasn't fair to make him keep waiting," Ridley murmured. "Besides, it was complicated enough with everything at work, truthfully I don't think I'm in any state to date anyone no matter what my feelings are and I can't make Tim wait about until I figure that out."

"I understand," Calleigh retorted warmly, "really I do. I guess then if it's meant to be it will be but still," she frowned, "he didn't have to move on with someone so quickly and from a frigging crime scene."

"She's not a criminal Calleigh," Eric chided her with a shake of his head.

"It's still inappropriate," Calleigh scorned.

Ridley smiled, appreciating Calleigh's supportive manner even if it was more than a little unfair to Tim and Serena. "It's okay, really," she insisted. "Let's just drink up and enjoy the evening."

"Good idea," Calleigh enthused.

As the night wore on the CSIs and detective stayed for more than the one planned drink and had a merry night dancing, drinking and gossiping. For Ridley it was a welcome relief, she had missed this, just socialising and acting like she hadn't a care in the world.

At a quarter to midnight Eric tugged out his phone as he got a text message. It read from Speed, 'Are you still out? Is Ridley there?' Eric fumbled to reply as he danced jovially with Calleigh. He was so happy to be out with the blonde he didn't even mind Ridley there, Ridley was good fun too when she actually allowed herself to be. He texted back, 'Yes, at the Seahorse Lagoon. Lots of fun without you, more women for me! Rid's still here, I swear I've even heard her laugh twice tonight!'

Eric's cheeks flushed faintly when Ridley slipped off to the toilets and Calleigh suddenly seized him by both hands and tugged him close into a dance. She smiled suggestively back as he twirled her around, his grin widening at her giggling. Over Christmas they had exchanged gifts, for the first year their gifts had actually been personal and exchanged in privacy but then Ridley had hastened back to New York, the magic of Christmas had faded and Tim's moody behaviour had made Eric sympathetic enough to spend some guy time with him.

Though it had gone unspoken, somehow Eric and Calleigh had seemed to agree that their relationship was going to be so slow and careful to the point of not happening because both of them were terrified of risking their professional relationship and their friendship and having it all end in disaster. Was it worth the risk? Looking at Tim and Ridley, Eric wasn't so sure. He frowned a little as he knew Calleigh had even stronger feelings about that, though she had constantly disapproved of Tim and Ridley she had simultaneously gotten it into her head that they were meant to be, some nonsense about Ridley being the only person who could make Tim think about others and Tim being the only guy who found Ridley's weirdness charming. Now that Tim and Ridley weren't, Calleigh had evidently lost faith in the idea of love in the workplace.

Eric paused breathlessly as the wild dancing finally ended and Calleigh broke from him to slip back to the table. His phone went again and he tugged it out. 'I could swing by or would that ruin things?' Eric could hear himself reading the message in Tim's sardonic, angry voice, he knew the moody implication there, even though Tim had left them to go on a date he was still taking it personal that he hadn't been invited to the bar. Eric thought to himself sarcastically, 'yes Speed you would ruin things because you'll only remind Calleigh of your failed relationship with Ridley, then you'll piss them both off simply by being here.' He chided himself for such a negative thought, it wasn't fair, Tim had done absolutely nothing wrong and, as Ridley had reminded them, it had been Ridley who had ended things. So Eric texted back, 'sure come by.'

Twenty minutes later Tim finally appeared looking somewhat suitably dressed in a pale, grey shirt with an open, black jacket and neat jeans. He was clean shaven though his dark hair was unruly in the fluffy, loose curls that Ridley had always adored and teased him over relentlessly. Even though Eric had warned her, Ridley still looked surprised to see him, and couldn't help hating the fact that he looked like he had dressed for a date. She stood up from the table after giving him a polite greeting before excusing herself to the bar.

"Stop glaring at me Calleigh," Tim snapped heatedly as he caught the blonde's disapproving look across the table, "it's not like I brought Serena." He turned away from the blonde, shrugging off Eric's hand and hastening to the bar.

Ridley tensed a little when Tim stepped up beside her, sliding his right arm onto the glass bar top. "We're still friends," he said reassuringly as his eyes flickered from one revealing barmaid to another.

"Yes," Ridley agreed quietly. "Did you have a good night?"

"Yes," he retorted as he cocked his head to glance her way. "Did you?"

"Yes," she said sincerely with a nod. "I'm glad you dropped by, it's not the same without you," she admitted, "it feels like more of a team with you here."

"I know what you mean," he retorted calmly, "it didn't feel like a team without you Ridley. How've you been anyway? It's been weeks, I wanted to call by but...well I thought I'd leave it up to you, if you wanted me round you'd text."

"I did," she blurted out before she could help it, though she kept her gaze purposely ahead. "I just...I didn't want to keep running hot and cold with you Tim, I need to sort things out with myself first before I can date anyone and I don't know how long that will take and I didn't want you to have to keep waiting and waiting, it's not fair." She could feel a lump growing in her throat and made an effort to swallow it back down.

"I don't agree with it but I get it," Tim murmured as a waitress appeared before them. He was quick to order a pint for himself and another wine for Ridley. "You made your choice and I'll respect it even if it pisses me off but you could still ask me round to your house as a friend Ridley. Shutting me out of your life completely is just fucked."

She nodded rapidly as she blinked back several tears. "I know, I know I just needed time and space, if I had you round I'd be...well...I'd be hugging you hard one moment and then cursing you out the next. I told you Tim, I want to be your girlfriend I just can't, I can't be anyone's at the moment."

"Okay, well I want to be your boyfriend Ridley but you told me not to hang around waiting anymore so I won't and so long as you know that well we can still be good friends and as your good friend I'd like to call by your house once in a while to see how you're doing."

She gave him a small, weak smile and nodded. "Okay, you can do that."

The group continued on in serenity as Calleigh accepted at last that Tim and Ridley's situation was one of Ridley's making and the pair were still getting along. They had several dancing sessions, even twice persuading Tim to join them and then at last called it a night close to two in the morning. Then they headed out across the road to sit on the beach side by side looking out at the calm, black ocean, streaked in white by the light of the full moon. It was beautiful and seemed to go on forever.

"I've missed this," Calleigh said as she dug her hands into the warm sand at her sides and breathed in the fresh evening sea air.

"Me too," Eric agreed happily. "We definitely need to hang out more." His gaze lingered on Calleigh as he said that though his words were for Ridley and Tim too. "It's always good fun with you guys," he added sincerely.

Ridley smiled back from Eric's left side before turning her gaze out to the black eternity before her. She wasn't sure she would ever get used to such a view, having become accustomed to the grey jungles of New York. Calleigh was seated on Eric's right side and discreetly nestled her head against his shoulder briefly before sitting upright prompting him to turn and smile gently at her. Ridley glanced at Tim briefly, only to tense as she caught a flashback of the cold lips of a killer invading her mouth as his hands violated her. She turned away from Tim sharply, looking back to the sea again. Why did it have to be like this?

Tim was filled with a burning desire to wrap his arm over Ridley's shoulders and tug her close to him, wanting to assure her that he would wait for her to sort out her issues but it was a lie, he wouldn't wait, he hadn't waited, she had ordered him away and he had gone. He dipped his head slightly and frowned, wondering like Ridley, why did it have to be like this?

* * *

 _Wow I edited this chapter so many times! It's a little heavy on all the complicated relationships so sorry if anyone's getting bored or sick of that but I really do like writing it! I know I'm awful to Ridley in this fic so far but I just imagine all she's gone through, more than once, and feel that she's because quite scarred and flawed as a result which has made her make some questionable choices, though she feels she's doing it for the better good there's definitely an implication that she's just trying to shield herself because she's scared and in the end she's just depriving herself._

 _Anyway I've also been toying with the idea of having the Vegas CSIs make a cameo but I don't know, that might take away from the fic but I always loved the flirtatous nature between Horatio and Catherine :-)_

 _As always thanks for all your awesome reviews, honestly I'm so chuffed! Let me know what you think so far!_


	6. Chapter 5- Deadly Sweet Sixteen

_Oh my gosh you guys are all so awesome! You're making this sequel more successful than I had hoped :-) Thank you for all your wonderful reviews, I really do appreciate them. So a lot of love for Eric Calleigh, I know I'm being mean but they seemed to be so on/off on the show and hey if it's difficult then it means a good pay off ;-) Not sure about H and Yelina, I always wanted them together on the show but I also wanted H and Catherine Willows together on the show, they were so awesome together in Cross Juridictions, incidentally one of my favourite episodes of both shows, gosh Tim what happened between then and Golden Parachute?_

* * *

"Were you doing homework?" Calleigh Duquense's beautiful Southern voice rang out through Ridley's living room accusingly as she frowned down at a collection of photographs and clippings featuring Estella van le Rael, amongst them were also texts and illustrations from Alice in Wonderland and newspaper and magazine texts about Estella's mother as well as numerous notes including a page detailing what was known about the last twenty-four hours of Estella's life.

Ridley turned from her old granite imitation top with two coffee cups in hand and headed through the open gap that linked the kitchen and living room. She paused with a vaguely embarrassed look in answer to Calleigh's accusing glower. The house was a tip; she hadn't been expecting the blonde so soon, in fact a 'I'm ten minutes away' courtesy text was all Ridley had gotten as warning to her friend's early arrival as she decided to call on Ridley in between shifts.

"Research," Ridley answered calmly, "it's hard to tell what's true and what's tabloid gossip about Monique van le Rael, it's certainly interesting though."

Calleigh gave her a look of mock disapproval as she accepted her coffee with a gracious smile. "Why Detective Moon I didn't take you for a gossip!"

Ridley smiled back before flopping down onto the soft, lumpy, battered blue-grey sofa.

Calleigh glanced about the living room briefly, taking a quick note of the brown bottle of tablets and the silver foil package of more medication, two popped. She read their names swiftly and knew they were to treat depression and anxiety amongst other things and guessed they were what the psychiatrist had prescribed. Only Horatio was privy to what went on in those sessions and even then it was only what Ridley permitted him to be privy to, and that information was released grudgingly if only to help persuade him that she was fit to work.

The blonde's clear blue eyes then roved over to the oak coffee table where an odd assortment of headless horsemen sat- ornaments, plushies and teddies, it was one of the weirder collections that Calleigh had seen. Just above the undead horsemen was a wooden photo frame divided up into six panes with the word 'FRIENDS' along the middle horizontally, it was Calleigh's house warming present complete with a photograph of herself, Eric and Tim at the beach, Tim looking as moody and uncomfortable as ever whilst Eric and Calleigh smiled widely at Ridley's lens. Calleigh noted there was another photo in there too, one of Tim on a dark carousel horse looking both annoyed and amused as he glowered at the photographer, again Ridley. 'Friends,' the blonde thought with a slight frown, 'is Speedle just a friend to her now?' She noticed that there were no other photos, it was evidently still too painful to have memories of Ruby and Justin and there was no suggestion of family.

The blonde turned back to Ridley with a grin before sitting down beside her and setting her cup down on the glass topped table before them were the messy evidence and case notes sat. "Did you learn anything helpful?" Calleigh asked curiously.

Ridley shook her head. "Just what we already know, the victim is meant to mimic Alice in Wonderland, just like the one in the house, and it's obvious 'Imperfect Alice' was the first victim but how could our killer have known we found that body? I mean Horatio and I interviewed the house's owner and we've looked into past owners but no suspects. Alexx says the first victim was between sixteen and twenty-five, just like Miss van le Rael, and her blonde her was bleached, she also thinks she's been dead for around twenty years and of course you can guess how many missing young blonde women cases there were around then. You guys met Mrs van le Rael yesterday didn't you, any leads there?"

Calleigh shook her head. "I thought it would be like meeting royalty," she confessed almost guiltily, "a big Las Vegas celebrity, but all she wanted to do was play the blame game, which I understand but caring more about the bad press than what actually happened to her daughter, yeah I don't get that so much."

"Well we're bound to turn up something, I mean her friends definitely aren't telling the truth about that evening and the strangers she went off that we have identified are even shadier, Horatio's already got one busted for possession of LSD."

"Which the poor girl was riddled with," Calleigh retorted with a shake of her head. Her eyes filled with a surprised guilt as she saw how Ridley paled slightly. "Sorry," she said hastily, "I didn't..."

"It's okay," Ridley retorted gently with a light shrug, "it is a word." Her phone started ringing just as Calleigh's beeped with a text message and she tugged it out and flipped it open. "Detective Moon here."

"Ridley I have a Sweet Sixteen birthday that hasn't gone all that sweetly," Horatio greeted in his usual dry manner, "and Yelina tells me when it comes to homicide you're the one to have on the job. It's at 17 East Sunny Copper Road."

"Okay," Ridley retorted calmly, "I'll see you soon." She hung up the phone and looked at Calleigh expectantly.

"Let me guess," the blonde mused with a smile, "he made one of his bad puns about a birthday?"

Ridley nodded with a slight smile. "How did you know?" she queried wryly.

Calleigh showed off the text message she had received, 'Potential murder at a birthday party, 17 East Sunny Copper Road, someone decided to take partying until they drop literally.'

Ridley rolled her eyes at the pun and was slightly disgusted at herself for actually being amused by it. She took another deep sip of her coffee before looking at Calleigh and quipping, "would you like me to drive?"

"Sure."

* * *

Serena Rivers glanced over at Tim curiously with her pale blue eyes. The pair were sitting outside a cafe after Serena had insisted on a light dinner. The young blonde had wanted noodles but Tim had turned down the idea quickly, grumbling about not liking them though Serena didn't believe that. She wasn't sure why, it wasn't like she knew him that well but there was something in his manner that suggested he was lying.

It was early evening and their eighth, or was it ninth date, she couldn't quite be sure. At first she had been quite happy at being able to charm the CSI into exchanging numbers but now she was getting the impression that his enthusiasm for their relationship was beginning to wane.

His dull brown gaze fell on the blonde and feeling her questioning stare he felt compelled to ask, "is there something wrong?" He knew it was a dumb question; it was a leading question that would result in answers he had no interest in.

Serena held his gaze calmly, undeterred by his uninterested tone. "We've never been to your house, that's all," she retorted serenely, like it was no big deal. She flicked back some of her long curls and leaned back slightly, giving him a good look at her tight, low cut, lacy, red vest top and the alluring, tanned bust it hinted at.

"And?" Tim quipped like it was an odd question.

"Well we've been to mine Speed," she reminded him with a suggestive smile as she twirled a lock of golden blonde hair about one finger. "I bet we could come up with some new tricks in your bed," she added as her smile widened and her bare left foot slipped out of her shoe to rub against his right leg.

Tim pulled his leg back instinctively and rubbed his hand through his dark hair awkwardly. "A bed's a bed," he muttered. He was annoyed at himself for refusing to get noodles with Serena and was annoyed to be annoyed about the whole business, noodles were just noodles after all, they didn't have to mean anything except cheap, easy food.

Serena filled with exasperation though she kept it from her pretty face, she knew it wasn't the way to win with Speed, if she acted irritated he would just back off. "A new scene makes it a little more exciting." She leaned across the table slightly and murmured in a low voice, "and your house is closer to town." She lifted up the wafer cylinder from her cup and gave it a slow, teasing suck before lowering it back into the cup. "If you show me your house I might let you have a glimpse of my new underwear, fair trade right?" She leaned back again with a low, musical giggle. "I know you like red wolfie."

Tim swallowed hard, damnit she was so confident when she spoke and the way she moved, toying with her hair, playing with her food, every movement just seemed...well it seemed sexy and he hated himself for thinking that but it did. Serena was beautiful, charming and smart and she knew it and she knew how to use all those talents to the best of her abilities. He sighed and tugged out his wallet. "Alright," he murmured, "but it's not that impressive a house, seems like a fair trade."

Serena giggled again. "Well you can find another way to impress me I'm sure," she answered with a seductive smile.

They stood up once Tim threw a few notes down on the table and headed back to the car park where his car sat. Once in his car Serena was quick to make jokes about his taste in his music before he was finally prompted to turn it off and flick on the radio. She thought she was being witty about it but all Tim could think was how Ridley called his music 'retro' and 'nostalgic' and even tried to sing along, albeit badly and mockingly because she preferred pop music but at least she tried.

Once they reached Tim's house he filled with discomfort as he headed up to the door and unlocked it. Truthfully he didn't want Serena here but he knew she was right to ask, they had been to her apartment three times now, it was only fair that she got to see his house. He led the way in wordlessly, pausing awkwardly in the hall as he wondered where to take her. 'You're being an idiot Tim,' he scorned himself, 'Serena is hot, smart and...well she's not funny, not really and she's not that interesting but it's hard to be interesting compared to a woman from Sleepy Hollow whose birthday is Halloween. Shit Tim stop it, Serena is sociable and into you, two things Ridley isn't right now.'

Serena wanted to spy but she knew that would be a little too obvious so instead, once she shut the door behind her, she immediately pulled him into a deep kiss, weaving both her hands through his dark hair as she did. "Let's trade," she offered with a smirk as she pulled back slightly.

Fifteen minutes later Tim headed to the bathroom to urinate. It had been good and yet he just felt miserable about it, just like he did every time he and Serena had sex. It certainly wasn't her, Serena had some good moves but there just was something off about it all, though if the blonde noticed she never said. Satisfied, at least in the bladder department, he walked back to his spare bedroom slowly, wondering if Serena had worked out it wasn't his main bedroom or even cared. Ridley had never made it to the main bedroom either but, Tim thought with a frown, it wasn't like he hadn't tried to get her there it had just never worked out that way.

"Take that off," Tim blurted it out before he could help it. He had re-entered the room to find Serena sitting on the edge of the bed wearing nothing except his black shirt.

"Why?" she purred as she grinned up at him. "It's cosy and it smells good."

"It's mine," he answered sullenly, "and I don't want you wearing it."

"Why not?" She rolled across the bed, allowing the shirt to spill open and reveal her attractive assets. "I think it suits me."

"It doesn't," he said flatly as he stepped up to the bed and held out a hand for it. "Come on, it's mine."

Serena sat up with a slight frown and pushed back some of her golden curls. "Well if you want me to strip again," she said teasingly as she slipped it off slowly with both hands. When he just continued to stand there with one hand out she threw it at him impatiently. "Alright, maybe black's not my colour," she remarked churlishly.

Tim was quick to tug the shirt back on, cursing to himself as he realised the vanilla scent that had clung to it had now been replaced with the cheap scent of Serena's violet perfume. He was about to snap something at the woman when his phone started ringing. It took a few seconds and six rings before he finally tugged it out from his jeans on the floor and opened it. "Yes?" he grumbled down it moodily.

"Speed we've got a case, 17 East Sunny Copper Road," Horatio ordered.

"Okay, I'll be right there," Tim answered bluntly before snapping the phone closed. "I've got to go work," he informed Serena coolly.

* * *

17 East Sunny Copper Road turned out to be an estate on the spoiled rich side of Miami, long, green lawns with several sprinklers, an endless yellow pebbled drive with three gleaming cars out on display, each of them worth more than Ridley's yearly paycheque, and the expected stone steps leading up to a grand porch with two towering, wooden doors with glass arches above them. There were also two squad cars, Horatio's car, and Eric's outside and at the front doors a weary uniform stood with a pouting male servant and a maid who was rolling her eyes and smoking lazily.

Calleigh and Ridley stepped up to the open door, flashing their badges at the uniform with a nod before they entered the large hall. It was decorated with numerous silver and gold balloons, and a large silver and gold glittering banner that read 'Sweet Sixteen'. There was a long table to the left with champagne glasses, though several bottles assured it was non-alcoholic and silver trays of nibbles.

"When did sixteen become a thing?" Ridley queried dully.

"When you're rich every birthday matters," Calleigh retorted as she sidestepped a hissing, puffy white cat.

"Cat people," Rildley grumbled with a frown as a tabby snarled at her before running up the wooden staircase, its claws clattering noisily as it did, "I don't trust cat people."

"That's a bit unfair," Calleigh chided as they continued on their way, following the sound of grumblings, sobbing, chattering, yelling and even laughter. "I like cats you know."

"You ever heard of dog burglars?" Ridley queried wryly.

They headed into a large room crowded with teenagers and weary looking cops trying to control them. They were all dressed rather fancily for a teenager's birthday party, the males in suits and the women in expensive dresses of satin, silk, sequins and ribbons, more than a few of them were barely there and more than a little inappropriate for their age. The room smelt sickly sweet, an intoxicating mix of aftershave, perfume, cake, buns, sparkling drinks and sweat. There were several chairs and tables, the tables with dove white sheets covering them and the chairs with silver and gold bows at their backs. On the tables were tall glasses of ice-cream sundaes, now melting and turning the glasses sticky and staining the tablecloths, silver dishes of strawberries, champagne glasses, gold and silver trays of buns and cake slices, and hundreds of tiny glittering 16s. There was glitter and streams of silver and gold paper all over the wooden floor, balloons floating all around the ceiling and a photo booth in one corner with a deep bucket of novelty items beside it.

"Where's the body?" Calleigh queried a frowning male cop bluntly.

"Left," he retorted as he pointed towards a set of open double doors, guarded by two cops.

Calleigh and Ridley tried to manoeuvre their way through the crowd tactfully, flashing their badges and snapping orders at people to move several times. They got more than a few frowns, scowls and curses in response but eventually they made their way through.

The next room was a huge ballroom Ridley didn't think actually existed in modern houses, who needed a ballroom after all? There were a few more tables and chairs to the left, again with the white sheets and silver and gold bows, and a large, polished, grey marble floor. There was a dark wooden staircase to the right leading up to a balcony that was almost in the centre of the room with a view out the ceiling to floor windows at the back of the room. From the ceiling large ribbons of silver and gold were hanging in loops, more balloons and odd, creepy jester masks of porcelain with silver or gold spray adding some colour to them. In the midst of all this was the victim, a girl in a dress of ivory, lace at the top and a gossamer skirt that stopped at her knees, her legs and feet were bare, her hair hung in golden chestnut tresses and on her head was a crown of leaves and pink flowers. She was tangled in the silver and gold ribbons, which were wrapped about all her limbs and tightly snared about her neck. Her face had a blue tinge to it and Ridley speculated that she had asphyxiated or been choked.

"Welcome to the party," Horatio greeted candidly as he stepped up to the pair of detectives.

"Who's the victim?" Calleigh queried curiously.

"Rose Forrest, older sister of the party girl Lily, she was meant to be playing guardian as well, Mr and Mrs Forrest are out of town you see, Mr Forrest's business beckoned urgently."

"Money buying love?" Ridley ventured sardonically as she gestured out to the extravagant looking party. Her eyes lingered on the image of an ice sculpted swan sitting just outside the patio doors that were set in the ceiling to floor windows. The swan was sitting in the centre of a table surrounded by glasses, bottles and punch bowls.

"So what happened?" Calleigh asked as she glanced towards the stairs.

Eric, who had spotted them, finally hastened away from the angry girl yelling at him and hurried over to Horatio and the others.

"Apparently Lily had her first dance planned for seven o'clock," Horatio explained, "she led the way in here to find her sister exactly as you see her."

"Not exactly a pretty sight," Eric murmured.

"First dance?" Ridley echoed as Tim finally elbowed his way into the room, camera about his neck and a case of equipment in hand. He looked a little breathless as he reached them, his hair was messy, his shirt collar was up and the top two buttons undone and his jeans were in need of a belt. "It sounds like a prom," Ridley finished condescendingly as she gave Tim a brief, polite look of greeting.

"It sounds nice," Calliegh murmured with a longing look in her eyes.

"Didn't you girls have a sweet sixteen?" Tim queried tauntingly as he looked about the room with a measure of disgust before he lifted his camera and got a quick shot of the victim.

"Well I did, I was a Southern belle after all," Calleigh retorted with a mischievous smile, "tea and cupcakes on the porch and all that with a mum who had to be a friend instead of mum. What about you Ridley?"

Ridley shrugged. "I think I watched a horror movie or something," she murmured.

"Your parents didn't do anything nice for your sixteenth?" Eric queried with a look of mock surprise.

"It was just another birthday like any other," Ridley retorted calmly, "looking for ghosts, scaring the neighbours by smearing ourselves in fake blood and pretending to be dead." She shrugged. "The usual." She then glanced at Tim again, ignoring Eric's look of stunned disbelief, she could smell violets radiating off him and recalled Serena smelling of violets when she had greeted them in the Chimera House.

"Right team, Eric, Ridley, I want you start documenting where all our guests were throughout the evening and what Rose's last known activities were. Calleigh, Tim, start gathering up the evidence of our crime scene before Alexx gets here to take the body," Horatio ordered.

The group nodded and separated to begin their lengthy tasks.

It was close to midnight when the CSIs reunited to share their findings. The party goers had largely been removed from the house, several dodgy suspects taken in for questioning along with some of the house's servants, and the body was on the way to the morgue. The Forrests had been informed of the terrible crime and were allegedly on their way back and expected to arrive in the early hours of the morning. In the meantime, their remaining daughter Lily was in custody as much for her safety as to keep her out of the way.

"Right, what do we know?" Horatio queried wearily as he looked at the numbered yellow markers Tim and Calleigh had set up around the ballroom.

"More than half these guests were and still are under the influence of drugs and alcohol," Eric retorted calmly, "but that's no surprise, teenagers, money and few adults, it's not a good mix."

"Lily had several friends round," Ridley continued, "apparently she and five of them were in here at around five getting drunk and dancing. A few of the guests say they witnessed Rose coming in here and having a fight with Lily ruining the party by messing up the dance floor and dancing before Rose. Rose wanted to have the first dance of the evening in here. Lily argued that it was only her and her friends in here, and that none of Rose's friends had seen them dancing or would care."

"Fighting over a first dance," Eric grumbled with a roll of his eyes, "it reminds me of high school, all the stress and squabbling over who to take to prom, what to wear, what song you would dance to first. All the girls were afraid of getting upstaged by their friends." He shot Calleigh and Ridley a teasing smile at that. "I bet you were one of them Calleigh," he teased.

"I was not," Calleigh retorted with a feigned look of surprise before she grinned. "I'll have you know Eric Delko I won second prize for best dressed."

"So you were upstaged," Eric mocked. He then continued, "I took Mona Cavez to my prom; she wore this hideous pink dress that was puffy and covered in frills and did nothing but complain all night." He looked to Ridley, Tim and Horatio with a smile. "What about you guys?"

Tim shrugged. "I spent most of mine smoking," he confessed dryly with a sideways glance at Horatio.

"Something recreational under the table?" Eric guessed humorously with a mischievous stare. "What about you H?"

"It was a long time ago," Horatio answered calmly, "but I was the prom king."

"You were not!" Calleigh scoffed with wide eyed surprise.

Horatio gave her a small flicker of a smile before he nodded discreetly. "Confidence Calleigh and dating the prom queen, it all helped."

"What about you Ridley?" Eric queried as he turned to face the young woman curiously. "A prom in the hollow, what was that like?"

"I don't know I didn't go," she admitted quietly.

"Why not?" Calleigh queried sadly. She thought of the woman's messed up youth and realised they might be touching a nerve, kidnapped, held captive, raped and tortured for days at the age of fourteen, Calleigh could only imagine how difficult growing up must have been after that and with no help from anyone.

Ridley shrugged as she tried not to look uncomfortable at the topic. "I was a little aloof at school and I did have my birthday on Halloween, I wasn't exactly popular. In short no one asked me, I spent the night taking whiskey shots with a couple of friends, we all pretended we didn't want to go anyway but...I don't know, I think I would've liked it."

"Nah," Eric was swift to answer with a wave of his hand as he attempted to downplay the issue, "come on you just heard us, I went with a complainer who ruined the whole night and Speed was so bored he got stoned at his."

"I did not say that," Tim was quick to protest as he glanced at Horatio nervously.

"Teenagers in a room of people, most of them they hardly know and don't like, all trying to control their raging hormones and compete over dresses and suits for the sake of one night they will barely remember, it's really not all it's cracked up to be," Eric assured Ridley.

Ridley gave him a grateful smile. "Maybe not," she agreed, "but still, the movies do make it seem romantic, getting dressed up and having that one special dance with a cute guy in a suit in a room with lights and ribbons that looks magical." She glanced about the room again and frowned. "I think I get the sweet sixteen thing now," she said, "how awful for Rose to lose the magic in such a horrible way. That's it, isn't it? The sweet sixteen and the prom, saying goodbye to your innocence and all the freedom and magic of childhood. Well," she added darkly, "I suppose I did that earlier than planned anyway."

Ridley pushed back a strand of dark hair over her right ear and said quickly, "I've identified Lily's friends, a Rick Burns, Jeff Steele, Amanda Cortez, Rochelle Aberdale and Graham Black, they all testify to being here around five sharing drinks and dancing and they all support the story of Rose storming in and starting a fight with her sister. They say Rose stormed off and Lily ran after her and that was the last they saw of her. They felt bad and took their drinks out of the party, heading to the living room. They all claim they stayed there until they heard the commotion."

Calleigh tried hard to hold back the sorrow she felt from her face. All she could feel was sympathy and guilt for her friend but she could see that Ridley was trying to be professional even if she was coming across as dark and she knew if she got emotional it might only hinder Ridley. So the blonde nodded and murmured, "our best evidence are the prints on the balcony, there were some fingerprints on the railings. Given Lily's position she could have jumped, been pushed or even fallen and got tangled in the ribbons, and given the noise it is plausible no one heard her struggling."

"We'll know more when Alexx confirms the cause and time of death," Horatio retorted confidently.

Ridley looked at the windows suspiciously; the swan was still there, or half there given most of it had melted. "Someone had to have been out there," she said. "I mean look at the display, it was a warm day, how long was that sculpture expected to last? It was out for use and the amount of servants in this place, someone was tending it."

"Meaning?" Eric quipped. He felt bad for talking about the prom, Ridley's cool reaction made him feel guilty as he thought about what Calleigh had and realised he should have considered the obvious, that Ridley probably hadn't had a good time growing up after Hawkes' vicious attack.

Ridley gave him a reassuring look, hoping to put him at ease and let him know that she hadn't been offended.

"Meaning there were witnesses," Horatio answered coolly as he followed Ridley's stare outside. "Calleigh, Eric, go upstairs to the balcony for a moment. Eric, you saw the prints up there, enough of a gap between them for a person to be there, potentially trapped. Just for a moment act like you were holding Calleigh there."

Eric dipped his head to hide his sudden blush. "Okay," he murmured, blushing harder when he glimpsed the sweet smile Calleigh flashed at him.

"Speed, Ridley, go outside and let me know what you can see, I know it's a lot darker than when our murder occurred but let's try. I'm going to go stand by the double doors and close them, Calleigh, after a few minutes give us your best scream and let's see what we can hear. I want to know if it was possible someone not only saw our murder but heard it."

"Alright," Ridley retorted as she headed towards the patio doors swiftly.

Tim wanted to ask Ridley if she was okay, assure her that she hadn't missed much at the prom and ask her why a dumb dance with a guy she probably would have never kept contact with mattered so much but words failed him. Instead he moved silently, studying his camera in an obvious manner as he breathed in her vanilla perfume and wondered why it managed to both please and annoy him at the same time.

They waited and watched Eric and Calleigh in an awkward patience and winced slightly at Calleigh's very convincing bloodcurdling scream. The problem was when Eric was standing in front of Calleigh with Calleigh against the balcony she was almost completely obscured and Rose was petite if she had been in that position with someone taller than her the people outside might have been completely oblivious and if her body was pushed the balcony would have blocked the view of that too. Neither Tim nor Ridley could spot the position where Rose's body had been.

After that Horatio called it a night, concluding that they would know more when Alexx came back with the cause of death.

* * *

Ridley glanced at her cracked watch face and read that it was a quarter to nine in the morning. She stifled a yawn and glanced at the photos of the ballroom wearily. In the cold light of day with the presence of crime scene tape and the absence of teenagers it all suddenly seemed less magical and innocent. Alexx had concluded that Rose had indeed been strangled to death but not by the ribbons, in fact Alexx said the unnatural way her body had been caught in the ribbons and the lack of ligature marks suggested she had ended up there after death. It meant it was definitely murder, even if her death had not been planned someone had most definitely moved the body.

Eric had the exciting job of observing Frank and Yelina interviewing the many, many suspects, trying to work out who was outside around the time of Rose's death. There was over an hour uncounted for, Rose had left her friends just after five and no one else seemed to have seen her since then and the discovery of her body at seven. Alexx said there were no prints or indentations around her neck suggesting strangulation by an object rather than hands.

Ridley moved on to the photos Tim had gathered from phones and cameras and was now trying to piece together to form a chronological account of the party. "Some interesting dress choices," he murmured sardonically as he glanced up at Ridley before he continued to click through the photos on his computer screen.

Ridley nodded and retorted, "well every girl wants to be a princess, some of them just want to be slutty princesses is all." She gave a small smile when Tim looked up at her again.

He continued clicking on through the photos when Ridley suddenly grabbed his shoulder and said, "stop." They both flinched at the gesture and she immediately pulled back and stood upright. "Sorry," she said hastily.

Tim frowned up at her, so now she didn't want to touch him at all? "What is it?" he grumbled.

Ridley pointed at the image of Rose grinning at the camera as she stood between two other girls. "There."

"What the dumb flower crown?" he demanded moodily.

"No, the scarf," Ridley answered softly. There was a silk, pink scarf knotted loosely about Rose's neck.

"What about it?" Tim queried.

"She wasn't wearing it when we found her," Ridley answered as her right hand went up to brush against her own scarf.

Tim's eyes widened a fraction as he hit print. "I guess we know what the murder weapon could be then," he murmured. "You can tell H."

Ridley nodded.

Tim accompanied her up to Horatio's office where she explained her findings and her theory. Horatio gave her a nod of approval before promptly ordering Eric and Tim back to the scene to hunt for the scarf, although they appreciated it that it could be long gone. Ridley had the privilege of re-interviewing the suspects along with Yelina.

Two more hours trickled by, during them the scarf didn't turn up but two girls finally confessed to being outside after a forgotten pair of shoes and abandoned shawl placed them both there. They admitted they had held back their presence there due to them being fifteen and sixteen respectively and the fact that the drinks outside had all been proven to be alcoholic. They admitted to seeing an older male they didn't know on the balcony, swarthy skinned with light brown hair, he was eventually identified as Thomas Baker, a guy Lily described eloquently as Rose's 'sex buddy'. Thomas admitted to being on the balcony with a leisurely shrug, stating he had gone up for a view but he denied being with anyone.

The case wore on and the evidence faded with it. Frustrated, Ridley spent over another hour with the photographs and then the breakthrough came, a photograph of three young girls with Thomas in the background and hanging just out of his jeans' pocket, the telltale end of a pink silk scarf. Everything seemed to go smoothly after that, the photo was enough to get a warrant to search his property. The scarf turned up in his car, of course it wasn't enough to convict him but he didn't know that. After Ridley pressing him about lying about the scarf and being alone with Rose who according to photographic evidence had been wearing her scarf until she was last seen by anyone, meaning he had to have taken it when alone with her, she finally pushed him into a confession.

It was an act of passion and circumstance, Thomas had been up on the balcony with the Rose, she had thought for a make-out session but he had learned she had not one but two other lovers. In a fit of rage, while kissing her, he had strangled the life out of her with her scarf. He had admitted tearfully that he had just wanted her to hurt but it had been so easy and with nowhere to hide the body he had tossed it over the balcony, hoping that without her scarf and the fact that she had been drinking people might believe she had simply fallen over the edge.

Satisfied, Horatio had closed the case and made sure Ridley got a large chunk of the credit when the Forrests and the press came hunting for answers. The CSIs all considered it a positive victory but it wasn't quite enough to take away from the bitter fact that the still had the odd case of Estella van le Rael and an unknown woman dead for twenty years open. It was something the press were much sniffing around and Horatio knew they couldn't keep the fact that Estella's death seemed to be a copycat killing quiet forever.


	7. Chapter 6- Mad Tea Party

"I'm there in the dark and I can't move, I'm trapped, chained down and...I'm exposed and he hurts me, over and over and I don't know it all blurs into one," Ridley concluded dully as she suppressed a shudder and made an effort to hold the psychiatrist's prying golden-brown eyes. Ridley hated the woman's eyes, there was something feline and cold about them, they seemed judging but Ridley supposed that maybe just her own paranoia conjuring that. "He ripped off my nails one by one...he cut my throat..." She paused and looked confused for a moment.

"He cut your throat?" the psychiatrist, Dr. Young queried coolly. "Wasn't Mr. Hawkes the one that did that?"

"Mister?" Ridley snapped hatefully. "Monsters don't get to be called Mister!"

"He wasn't a monster a Ridley," Dr. Young answered calmly. "We have discussed this; he was a evil man who took advantage of you and your friend's vulnerability, a criminal and a rapist but just a man." She sat opposite Ridley, her large, mahogany desk between them as much a symbol of their divide as patient and doctor as well as a shield between the stable and the unstable, the well and the unwell.

"Just a man," Ridley spat out hatefully, "were they both just men? What does that make me then to be so vulnerable to mere men?"

"Well you were young when Mr. Hawkes attacked you," Dr. Young murmured with a crisp empathy, if words could be sterilised Dr. Young had a knack for it. "This led you to have issues of vulnerability and safety." She paused to glance down at the notes on her desks before glancing up at Ridley once more through her ovular lenses. "You became a cop to master your fear and find a way to protect yourself, you saw cops as people that could protect others, an idea you got from your friend Felicity's image of a hero cop but you didn't get your hero cop and when you joined the force that didn't change. You kept looking for one Ridley, which is how you ended up with Detective Silver."

"It wasn't like that," Ridley snarled moodily as she folded her arms and frowned.

"Yes it was," Dr. Young stated the words with finality, now Ridley knew the woman was judging her. "Ridley it is understandable and something you need to come to terms with. Until you accept the nature of your fear you cannot overcome it completely. You became a cop but it wasn't enough, you still didn't feel safe, it passed for a time, a long time though falling into bed with Detective Silver and then Detective Speedle was most definitely a setback but you still had a degree of control over your fear, or at least you thought you did. The Suburban Legends killer ruined that, he made you vulnerable again, tore away your illusions of safety and made you feel that you couldn't protect yourself, that no one could protect you, your own colleagues couldn't do it."

"Stop it," Ridley hissed out as she glanced sideways.

"Ridley you need to confront this, you were helpless, weak, and powerless to stop any of it."

She shook her head defiantly even as she felt the tears burning anew. "He raped me over and over, he...he flayed me, he made me scream...he made me...do things..."

"Who? Hawkes or the Suburban Legends killer? You're beginning to blend them into one, one monster or demon; you're giving the fear too much power Ridley. It's not an entity, they were two separate people and two separate events and we need to deal with them that way. Once you overcome one you can begin to overcome the other. You were a teenage girl victimised because of who you were friends with, you couldn't help any of that, that was the situation with Hawkes. With the Suburban Legends killer you were a cop on his case and you got too close and he punished you for that, he made it personal but you have to let it go."

"Let it go," Ridley choked out, "like it's so easy."

"Ridley you tried to solve your issues with Hawkes by sleeping with cops but that was just a band aid for the wound, it did you no good and the wound stayed and scarred until the Suburban Legends killer reopened it and made it bigger."

"I...I didn't sleep with Tim because of that, the first time maybe but not...I like Tim," she murmured weakly. "I want to be normal with Tim and date him but I can't...because every time I think of sex it's him holding me down, making me scream, God he broke me...inside and out..."

"Ridley you can't be normal," Dr. Young commented sharply, "but-" She didn't get to finish her sentence.

Ridley saw red at her words and stood up suddenly with a fiery glower. "This session is over!" she snapped angrily.

"Ridley if you walk out that door I have to report it," Dr. Young threatened with a cool glance.

Ridley ignored her and turned to the door; she opened it hastily, slammed it hard behind her and stormed down the corridor, narrowly avoiding a young lab technician.

* * *

Horatio got the news unofficially first as rumours spread of Detective Moon storming through the Miami-Dade headquarters like a tornado before she drove off so fast out of the car park she left prominent tyre tracks. Twenty minutes later after he had reached her house and found it absent he got the phone call from an unimpressed Dr. Young. After that it was simply a game of elimination to try and locate the fiery New Yorker. In the end he texted her and she gave up her position without a struggle.

It was just after four when Horatio stepped onto the hot, white sands of Miami South Beach, it was crowded on the sunny afternoon with natives and tourists alike but Ridley was easy to spot. Ridley and Horatio were probably the only two people there who weren't dressed for the beach. She sat under a small group of palm trees wearing blue trousers, a silk, cream shirt and black Mary Janes, her badge visible at her right hip as it glinted in the sun. She sat with her legs out straight, and a red camera in her hands that she was staring down at moodily.

"Am I off the case again?" she queried bitterly as he took a seat beside her.

"No," he answered calmly as he stared out at the roaring deep blue waves through his tinted lenses.

"Then you haven't heard?"

"That you abruptly left your session with Dr. Young?" He nodded as he continued to stare at the sea. "Yes, I heard."

"Did she tell you why?" Ridley queried as she looked over at him.

He shook his head. "No, you didn't give your consent for today's session to be released to me."

"Ah." Ridley turned the camera off at last, slipped it into its case and zipped it up. "I get confused sometimes in there about who did what," she spoke the words aloofly, purposely distancing herself from the thoughts that accompanied the words. "I say that Hawkes did something he didn't and so on and today she accused me of turning the two into one entity, a monster when they're both just men. Just ordinary human beings, both of whom managed to beat me, capture me, hurt me, well you know..." She shook her head angrily as she drew her knees up and hugged them close. "It made me angry being forced to realise that they didn't have any supernatural abilities but that I was just weak."

"You weren't weak Ridley," Horatio argued softly.

"I was young when Hawkes kidnapped me, perhaps I couldn't have outwitted him but I should have learned from that and evolved," Ridley retorted frostily. "I had training and a gun when it came to...to the violet eyed man." She swallowed hard. "I had experienced being captured before; I should have known enough to avoid it happening again. He tortured and killed my colleague and then my friend, why didn't I know enough to avoid it happening to me? God I'm so stupid!"

"Ridley you did everything you could," Horatio answered gently, "but you are only human too. We all did everything we could to beat this man and in the end we did, thanks to you but it wasn't a sign of your weakness that he was able to hurt you."

"Well what then?" she demanded as she looked up at him crossly. "How do I stop it happening a third time if it's not something I'm doing wrong? If there's nothing to fix..." She swallowed hard again. "Then what can I do to stop it happening again?"

Horatio tugged down his sunglasses to meet her worried brown-grey stare with his own sympathetic blue one. Now he thought he understood the issue at last, it wasn't fear of memories it was fear of the future. "You keep doing what you are doing," he retorted calmly, "keep training, keep attending the psychiatrist and keep living."

"She said I couldn't be normal again," Ridley grumbled sullenly. "That's when I stormed off. I don't want to believe that."

"Then don't," Horatio said seriously. "Ridley do you remember I asked you to do something in the hospital?"

She nodded sombrely. "You asked me to keep pushing myself to live and keep fighting for survival."

He nodded with a small, satisfied smile. "Exactly and living in fear isn't living Ridley. Remember you did outwit Hawkes, you got away from him without anyone's help and you survived the Suburban Legends killer too against all the odds. You are a fighter Ridley and not the type of person to let this beat you."

She nodded weakly as she rubbed at her eyes tiredly, banishing any tears that were threatening to fall. "I wish you'd found me," she murmured quietly, "that I could have known you when I was younger."

"I wish I'd found you too," the redhead confessed, "but you did fine without me Ridley, better than fine."

They stayed on the beach in silent companionship for close to half an hour simply looking at the passersby and the ever churning ocean. They were disturbed when Ridley's phone beeped indicating a text message. She tugged it out and glanced at it, three messages in fact, word had continued to spread about her epic storm off from the psychiatrist's. One from Calleigh read, 'Hey Ridley are you free for a coffee?' It didn't imply anything but Ridley knew it had to be because the blonde knew what had happened. Then one from Tim, it simply said, 'are you free?' and finally one from Eric which she actually smiled at, 'hey Rid everyone knows Dr. Young' s a bitch, P.S she has it in for women, especially attractive ones, don't take it personally!'

"So, I'm not off the case?" she queried tentatively as she glanced up at the redhead who was still staring out at the sea.

"Ridley you're entitled to a bad day, we all get them," Horatio answered as he glanced back at her, "and I know therapy can be very difficult, I'm not going to punish you for losing patience with it. I just want you to keep pushing to live Ridley, to feel safe and have the normal life you want. If you're suffering from posttraumatic stress it doesn't just endanger the case it endangers you too Ridley and none of us wants you to have any setbacks. Look, Miami-Dade is never going to close itself to you so don't be afraid of me as well, if you are scared or upset you tell me, I know you don't like being off because it gives you too much time to think but maybe we can work through that too."

"What do you mean?" She looked at him curiously.

"Maybe we could all do with a hobby," he said wryly. "In the meantime, let's agree that you are going to continue with your therapy and we will keep going with this case."

"Okay."

Horatio's phone started ringing and he pulled it out from his jacket pocket and flipped it open. "Horatio here. When did that happen? Right, tell Detective Tripp we're on our way." He snapped it closed and looked back at Ridley. "How do you feel about tea parties?"

"They're not a hobby of mine," Ridley answered calmly, knowing exactly where he was going with this.

"Good because you're probably not going to like them after this." He stood up and held out a hand to the woman, which she accepted.

She tensed slightly in the redhead's grasp recalling how he had clutched at her bloody fingertips after removing her from her grave and promised her that she was safe. She suppressed the memory quickly as she stood and he released her hand though she did not miss the curious glance he gave her as she pulled away.

"You can take your car home, I'll follow you and then we can head to the crime scene together," Horatio offered. "I know you still don't know your way around Miami very well and I doubt you will find Knott Woods Crescent too easily."

"Nope," she agreed with a faint smile as she tugged out her car keys.

* * *

"Guys you really have a sick one," Alexx said wearily as she rubbed her gloved hands together and looked over at Horatio and Ridley with a grim calmness.

"Hey guys," Calleigh greeted chirpily as she moved from her vantage point at the end of the table. She considered it a positive sign to see Ridley and Horatio entering the large, old-fashioned dining room together. "Welcome to the Hayir household, spelt H-A-Y-I-R but pronounced hair, which I'm guessing is not a coincidence."

"I thought the tea party happened at the hatter's house," Eric commented as he waved his UV torch over the table whilst looking through an orange square panel at what the light illuminated.

"Common misconception," Ridley explained as she took in the grim scene, "Alice went to the March Hare's house because she thought the hare would be more interesting than a hatter." She shrugged at the looks her remark earned her and said, "I had a boyfriend who was obsessed with Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."

There was a dark mahogany table in the middle of the room with enough seats for ten, four opposite each other and one at either end, all of them with fancy backs that had images of flowers and ivy leaves carved into them. The tablecloth was white and covered in numerous blood spatters as well as a collection of fine china teacups, saucers and a teapot and milk jug along with silver cutlery, a butter dish, another teapot and a three tier cake tray. Of course none of that was disturbing, not even the bloodstains, it was the bodies and the blood smeared writing on the white wall behind the table that drew in all the attention.

There was a man, his back to the door, he was tied tightly to his chair with a thick rope and on his head a flamboyant, velvet, green top hat sat with a blue ribbon about it and a card marked 10/6 slotted into the ribbon. Opposite the man was a woman, she had her arms tied down to the arms of her chair and one rope about her torso holding her upright. She had fair skin and long, wavy, dark brown hair that hung over her shoulders. She was quite thin with bony cheekbones and long fingers with polished, pink fingernails. She had a pair of tall, brown hare ears on her head, these were attached to a furry, brown headband which, Ridley noted with a slight look of unease, had been sewn into the woman's scalp. Bloodstains down her brow and on the scraps of straw that had been tossed into her hair indicated that she had been alive when this had been done. She also had what looked like butter smeared around her face. The third victim was the hardest to look at, two seats down from his mother he was a boy no more than seven or eight, his arms were tied to the arms of the chair as well but he had been left to slump forward, facedown in an open pot of tea. Ridley made out a pair of rounded grey ears sewn to his scalp and she knew they had to be mouse ears.

"Sorry I'm late," Tim announced as he hastened into the crime scene.

Eric let out a snicker. "You're always late, too busy getting laid wolfie?" he teased. He tensed when Calleigh shot him an angry look and nodded pointedly in Ridley's direction.

Tim didn't answer; he simply glowered at his friend before glancing awkwardly at Ridley. Well at least she looked alright apart from the faint blush at her cheeks and the grim gaze in her grey-brown eyes. She gave Tim a faint half-smile that he knew was meant to signal that she wasn't bothered by Eric's remark but it just made him angry. Was she really not bothered?

"So our killer's not a one trick pony then," Tim remarked dryly as he lifted his camera and took a photo of the writing on the wall. In blood it read- `Come, we shall have some fun now!'

"Is that meant to be a challenge?" Tim wondered aloud.

"It's a quote," Ridley retorted, "from the tea party chapter but yes, it's probably a challenge too."

"Cause of death Alexx?" Horatio quipped calmly as he continued to look about the room.

"Well Mr. Hayir got it worst," Alexx murmured, "as you can see from all the slash marks, it looks like a hatchet did the job. Although, it's hard to tell if he donated the blood on the wall. Mrs. Hayir I'm not sure about, she has all the signs of a drug overdose but I won't know until we do some testing, maybe it was in the butter all over her face, which I don't get."

"It was the best butter," Ridley murmured faintly.

"What?" Horatio glanced over at the dark haired woman curiously.

Ridley pointed to the squished butter on the butter dish. "The March Hare tried to fix the Hatter's watch with butter." She came round to the other side of the table, her eyes widening slightly as she saw that the gagged Mr. Hayir had had his eyes poked out. There was indeed a pocket watch there, gold and open with butter smeared about it sitting just in front of the man. "Got to admire the accuracy," she commented frostily.

Tim leaned down to the dead boy and took a photo. "He's got burn marks on his cheeks," he murmured, "at least what I can see of them."

"Hot tea," Ridley guessed, "it's...it's how they kept the Dormouse awake."

"God this guy is sick," Calleigh commented in disgust, "but where's Alice?"

"Where's this girl?" Ridley demanded as she pointed to a photograph of the family resting on a bookshelf in the corner. It depicted Mr and Mrs Hayir with their son and a slightly younger daughter with Mrs Hayir's sharp cheekbones and dark hair.

"Frank!" Horatio called sharply prompting the balding cop to hasten into the room.

"Yes?" he queried calmly. He had been on the scene for over an hour with Yelina before she had gotten called to a homicide further into the city. For the past ten minutes he had been dealing with a rookie cop vomiting on the front lawn.

"There's a girl in the photograph," Horatio explained as he gestured to the silver framed photograph Ridley stood beside, "where is she?"

"We've been looking for her," Frank admitted, "but so far no sign. I have cops casing the neighbourhood in case she ran to a neighbour and also in case someone noticed anything but it's a secluded house, it's doubtful anyone did."

"Keep looking," Horatio ordered. He turned to his colleagues. "Guys let's get this house searched, this guy was here for a while setting up this scene, he must have left evidence and that little girl could be here somewhere."

They nodded and began processing the scene. Tim and Calleigh both wanted to query Ridley about her psychiatry session but they could both respect that it was neither the time nor the place, instead Tim headed to the kitchen to look for evidence there whilst Ridley headed outside to check the premises and Horatio headed to the front hall leaving Calleigh and Eric with the crime scene as Alexx headed outside to greet her own team.

"You are such an idiot," Calleigh was quick to snap.

"What?" Eric looked over at her in surprise. "Oh come on Calleigh it was just banter!"

"Even so," the blonde grumbled as she studied Mrs. Hayir. "Ridley probably doesn't like being reminded of Serena the slut."

Eric let out a laugh at that and didn't stop despite the evil eye Calleigh gave him. "Calleigh not talking about it isn't going to make it go away and Ridley was the one who told Speed to move on and so far she has been fine with it."

"You know that's not true," the blonde murmured crossly.

Eric shook his head as he continued to dust for prints. "Yeah I do," he confessed, "and I think Speed's an idiot for actually going along with it and moving on. I respect he has urges but if he really felt strongly about Ridley he would wait no matter what she said, no matter how angry she got he would just hold out because he should know it will be worth it one day." He paused at his own words as he felt his cheeks burning.

Calleigh dipped her head slightly allowing her long blonde locks to hide her own faint blush. "What does that mean then?" she queried softly. "That Speed doesn't like Ridley as much anymore or that she's not worth the hassle to him?"

"No, it means he's stubborn, stupid and thinks with his dick," Eric joked with a small smile. "I think he's trying to make Ridley jealous or he thinks because she hasn't reacted to Serena then maybe she's not as interested in him anymore."

"God they're both being ridiculous," Calleigh murmured, pausing as she realised how her words seemed a bit closer to home. "He thinks she isn't interested anymore and she thinks the same thing but really..."

"But really Ridley's trying to be selfless when she's just being stupid and Speed's trying to go along with what he thinks she wants and just being an idiot too," Eric concluded.

Calleigh smiled now too as she glanced up at Eric coyly with her deep blue eyes. "We have to fix it you know."

"Ridley's in a bad place right now," Eric murmured reluctantly, "I don't know if we can fix it."

"Well we have to try," the blonde said stubbornly, "Ridley's from New York they're all bull headed up there, she won't try to heal if she's not helped."

"They're bull headed down here too," Eric murmured as he thought of himself. 'Why can't you just tell her you like her?' he wondered angrily. 'You're standing here mocking Speed for not being able to do the same damn thing.'

Meanwhile, outside and completely oblivious to the conversation going on about her, Ridley continued her hunt around the premises. She paused as she found the bins waiting in the back garden by the wooden gate. There were a lot of flies buzzing about them, making her more than a little suspicious. She snapped on her red, velvet gloves and approached them cautiously, reaching out slowly to the lid of one. Her grey-brown eyes watered slightly at the stench that wafted up, fresh, bloody meat spoiling in the heat. She saw the wide brown eyes of a five-year-old girl's decapitated head and knew it was just another image to add to her nightmares. She let the lid drop shut as she swallowed down a mouthful of vomit and hastened back to the house to report her discovery.

It was a couple of hours before the bodies were finally removed, after Tim had taken several shots of the body parts spread out between the two bins and Eric had checked the bins over for prints. After that the group headed back to the Miami-Dade headquarters to discuss their findings, Alexx admitted grimly that it was highly likely the blood on the wall had come from the dead girl.

"Why was the girl thrown in the bin like that?" Calleigh pondered aloud as she accepted the cup of coffee Eric presented to her.

"He didn't need her," Ridley answered coldly as she sat down on a hard backed, black, plastic chair and immediately regretted the move due to the discomfort it immediately caused her.

"Why not?" Eric demanded, his anger for the poor girl slipping into his voice. "What happened to Alice?"

"He already had his Alice," Ridley retorted. "That left a Hatter, a Hare and a Dormouse, no place for the girl."

"Eliza," Horatio filled in, "Eliza Hayir." Though his voice was crisply calm the rage was clear in his dark blue eyes.

They were all gathered in one of the main offices, spread out as they sought vantage points near the air conditioning and the open windows. The evening was turning uncomfortably humid and sticky.

"Another name to go with the face," Ridley grumbled.

Horatio had the grace to look apologetic but he said nothing.

"We all saw it Ridley," Tim murmured moodily. "You can't get personal about it."

Ridley glanced his way but he was looking out the window. She realised he was right and fell silent, of course it didn't matter that he was right the glassy eyed head would be in her nightmares anyway.

"If the Hayirs were picked for their name, why did he pick Estella?" Eric queried. "Or the woman in the attic?"

"Because Estella was curious and blonde," Horatio answered grimly.

"That's a bit flimsy for you H," Eric protested.

"Her mother said she liked to experiment with drugs," Horatio explained, "and she was always interested in trying new things. Her friends said she had a tendency to wander off with strangers in nightclubs; her last night alive was no exception to this, as we know she ended up falling in with a crowd because she was seeking LSD. Of course the strongest piece of evidence is that she also liked to pretend to be someone else when she was out because whilst she enjoyed her mother's money she resented her fame, as I learned this morning from one of our drug dealers, she was calling herself Alice that night."

"You're kidding," Tim remarked sardonically.

Horatio shook his head. "Someone heard the curious blonde calling herself Alice and they couldn't resist."

"Was he looking for an Alice or was it crime of opportunity?" Ridley pondered. "Imperfect Alice and perfect Alice, he wasn't happy with his first victim, that's why she was up there, hidden away, he was ashamed but these new victims, they're all on display."

"Well that's messed up," Eric murmured.

"And now that he knows her name wasn't actually Alice," Tim commented suggestively, "are we going to have another dead Alice?"

"Let's hope not," Calleigh said calmly.

"Maybe it's not just the name," Ridley retorted. "We can't assume."

"Correct, anyway, let's call it a day," Horatio dismissed them.

They stood up and moved to go out of the office, Calleigh intended to stop Ridley in the corridor but Tim beat her to it. "Can we..." He paused, unsure what to say, can we talk was alright but asking someone to coffee or a drink was easier but then what if Ridley thought it was suggestive and rejected it. "Fuck it," he grumbled aloud, "are you hungry? Can we get noodles?"

Ridley blinked at him in surprise as she thought over her reply. Tim could see the rejection budding there so he spoke up again before she could, "yeah we're getting noodles, I want to talk. Come on, I'll drive." He started walking on, hoping she would follow rather than give a rejection to his back. It worked as Ridley found herself walking after the man.

When they got into Tim's car he flipped on one of his CDs and glanced at Ridley out of the corner of his eye as he pulled out of the car park. Ridley looked at the CD player pointedly as Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit blasted out. She had informed Tim that it was one of only three bands in his collection that she had heard of, the others being Metallica and The Doors, and of the three she couldn't fathom their appeal at all. She had then murmured that she didn't even understand half the lyrics in Smells Like Teen Spirit and made a point of singing her own interpretation of them. From then on Tim had made a point of trying to play that song at least once when Ridley was in his car.

She shook her head with a small smile and started singing along quietly much to Tim's amusement. When they reached the noodle place Tim ordered and paid for their usual chilli noodles before guiding Ridley over to one of the red leather seated booths. Ordinarily they wouldn't have hung around here but here was neutral territory and Tim knew he had probably already pushed Ridley enough as it was.

He sat opposite her meeting her calm, quizzical look. "I heard you stormed out of therapy," he remarked tactlessly.

Ridley frowned and pushed back some of her loose, dark hair. "I think everyone heard," she grumbled, "judging from all the looks I've been getting."

"Well Belmontes says you took off from the car park like a bat out of hell," Tim offered with a small grin.

"Right." Ridley's frown deepened.

Tim realised he was going about the matter all wrong and remarked hastily, "anyway, I just wanted to know if...well you're not okay, so I'm not going to ask that but do you want to talk about it with me?"

Ridley gave him an uncomfortable look and he watched as she dug her nails into the edge of the table.

"As a friend Ridley," he said pointedly with a slightly irritated look.

"That's not it," she murmured.

"Well?" He looked at her impatiently wondering if she even liked him at all anymore. Why was she so damn awkward with him?

"You came up in therapy," she confessed.

"Oh, good things I hope." He frowned at his own comment. "Which they obviously weren't," he guessed sardonically, "or you wouldn't have stormed off."

"Dr. Young thinks I used you and Justin, I didn't get my hero cop rescuer when that monster," she paused and said through gritted teeth, "Hawkes had me and ever since then I've been trying to make every cop my hero cop." She looked down at her noodles uncomfortably. "I guess I've been wondering if you think I used you."

"Ridley you and I have talked about this before," Tim reminded her, "when we hooked up the first time in the club yeah you used me but I used you too and that was normal, it's what adults tend to do when they get drunk and make out with someone in a club. I've never thought you used me since, I was actually hopeful you liked me."

"I did," she protested as her gaze shot up to meet his.

"Did," he repeated flatly.

"Do," she admitted before she fell silent again. "Dr. Young said it was selfish and unhealthy to keep up a relationship with you, she said since it started out as me once again trying to make a cop fit into my cop protector image any relationship you and I could have would be tainted by that-"

"What a load of bullshit," Tim interrupted crossly. "Hey I know H said you have to go to therapy but you can still have your own mind too Ridley."

"Well my own mind says it's unfair to have you endlessly waiting when I don't know when I'll be able to just be normal or even if..."

"No one's normal," Tim murmured tiredly as he leaned across the table to her, fixing his stern brown gaze on her, "no one I know anyway."

"Well most couples have sex without the girl freaking out and suffering horrible flashbacks of rapists," she stated coldly.

Tim gave an angry sigh before he swallowed down his protests and promptly shoved a forkful of noodles into his mouth. 'Just friends,' he thought to himself moodily, 'you agreed and you can't exactly sit and protest and promise you'll wait when you only waited a couple of weeks to start sleeping with someone else.'

"Look it's okay and I'm okay," she tried to assure him in a more gentle voice, "honest. Are you okay? Are things good with Serena?"

He shrugged, unsure what to answer. Wasn't she even just a little jealous? "I guess so," he murmured.

They continued eating their noodles amicably, talking about everything except their broken relationship, Serena and the case. At the end of it Tim drove Ridley back to the Miami-Dade car park to get her car, making her promise to text him if she needed to talk to someone who wasn't a judgemental psychiatrist.


	8. Chapter 7- Weird Headlines

"Mr Hayir bled to death, Mrs Hayir overdosed from heroin and LSD, which was in the butter, Timothy Hayir was drowned with tea and Eliza Hayir died from blood loss and trauma," Horatio summed up coldly. "That's two victims with LSD and our only known dealer has proven clean, at least with regards to murder. I want every dealer we can find; one of them is supplying this guy. Let's also note that both Estella and Mr Hayir had their eyes gouged out."

"Well I've been looking into the costume pieces; they were all made by a company called..." Tim paused, sucked in a breath and glanced at Ridley briefly before he continued on. "Called Riddle's Co, they used to supply to costume stores across the country before they went bankrupt almost twenty years ago."

Ridley paled just a fraction at the name before commenting coolly, "he's been planning this for a while then."

"What was he waiting for?" Eric pondered aloud.

"The discovery of Imperfect Alice," Ridley murmured, "it's like his madness was dormant until that or, or what if he's been killing just not so dramatically, what if he felt he had failed with that idea and dropped it but he's a serial so he has to keep offending but then we found Imperfect Alice and the idea was awakened?"

"That's weird and creepy," Eric murmured. "Do serial killers even do that? Surely they just stick to the one idea?"

Ridley shrugged. "It depends, google unsolved murders sometime, there are some strange cases. I mean could be this is part of a cult, an obsession we're not getting yet or maybe it's all just a cover. I did a case in New York once, four people dead, turns out only one needed to die in the eyes of the killer, Louis Jackson, he killed the other three to make it look like a serial, imagine that, killing people to hide a murder, that's madder than killing people because you have an urge to kill people."

"If you say so Detective Weird," Eric answered sardonically.

Ridley gave him a small grin. "Hey people blame demons and ghosts even in this day and age, sometimes looking for motive is futile."

"Well let's just focus on the evidence and look for a killer," Horatio suggested lightly.

"Estella van le Rael was dressed up when found, she vanished in the night, was discovered around two the next day in the afternoon, and probably died around midday," Ridley remarked calmly. "So did the killer just happen to have that costume waiting for her as he did with the tea party or did he obtain it while he had her somewhere?"

Horatio's golden-red eyebrow rose a notch at that. "Look into it Detective Moon," he ordered, "and let me know what you come up with. Speed help out, chances are these costumes are linked. Eric, Calleigh I want you to look into all the ways they died, find me my drug dealer."

The four nodded before pairing off to follow their orders. For Speed and Ridley it meant some time in the lab testing the costume pieces again and then surfing the net to get some information on them. For Calleigh and Eric it meant a hot summer's day cruising into some of the dodgier areas of Miami as they chased after the drug dealers they knew in the city's underworld.

By half three Eric and Calleigh finally called it a day and the blonde agreed to a much deserved break at a cafe. There Eric treated Calleigh to a sandwich and a much needed cool glass of orange juice before they took a seat outside to enjoy the faint breeze that had picked up. They had gotten nowhere; even the dealers they had leverage on weren't cracking or simply weren't linked. There weren't even any rumours of someone other than the norm having a sudden interest in LSD.

"I think we should have another night on the beach," Calleigh announced suddenly as she leaned back in her white chair and glanced out to the busy road through her dark shades.

"That would be good," Eric agreed. "You, me, Ridley and Speed?"

The blonde nodded as she turned her head back towards him. "We always have good fun together," she murmured, "and yet it feels like it's been ages since we really did. It's like...all these bad things just suddenly happened and it all fell apart a bit." She tugged her sunglasses down slightly to meet Eric's curious brown stare. "I don't want to let it keep falling apart," she said seriously, "the team, our friendship, Speed and Ridley and...us." She dipped her head slightly before giving a bright smile.

"Us," Eric repeated as he felt his cheeks burn.

"Us," Calleigh repeated shyly. "Look, there's a good bar on the South Beach, how about this Friday?"

"Sure," Eric answered as calmly as he could even as his cheeks turned scarlet.

"Good," Calleigh said confidently as her smile widened, "you tell Speed, I'll tell Ridley."

"What about Serena?" Eric dared to quip.

Calleigh pulled a face and shrugged. "You know what, let Speed decide."

* * *

19:30, Speed glanced at his watch wearily and frowned, it felt like much later. He was tired, sweaty and all he wanted to do was sit at home alone with a cold beer but instead he was with Serena. They had just seen a movie, some dull action flick that Speed could barely recall and now they were in his living room. It had been Speed's suggestion to go back to his house as he was determined to make some sort of effort with the blonde, especially after today.

Working with Ridley today had gone from awkward to just downright unpleasant, they had brushed against each other in the lab and every time Ridley had flinched back like Tim was poisonous. It had gotten to the point that when she touched his hand and jerked back like she was bitten Tim had finally snapped. He had accused her of being revolted by him, listening to her shrink too much and generally acting like a freak, when Ridley had struggled to stammer out a weak defence, something to do with not wanting to mislead him or be unfair and being unable to handle her feelings for him he had lost all patience and stormed off.

He was naturally regretting it now and when he had left the cinema to find a lengthy text message from Ridley he had even felt guilty. The text had read: 'Tim I'm sorry, I know I've been weird with you, it's just yesterday at the noodle place...it felt good and I felt bad because it did because you have a girlfriend and it's not fair me confusing things. Then today in the lab, every time we touched I just wanted to kiss you so I pulled away to stop...the urges. I'm sorry, really but hey, I am Detective Weird right?' The last bit had actually made him smile which had then just made him angry because the situation was so messed up.

He turned his head suddenly as he felt Serena's hand on his leg and saw her wide blue eyes looking up at him suggestively. He knew he should respond, he hadn't even spoken for the last ten minutes letting the television fill the silence. "I can't do this," he blurted it out before he could help himself.

Serena sighed and pulled her hand back with a scowl. "Is it her, the detective?" she queried sharply.

Speed frowned and looked at her in puzzlement. "Who?"

"Detective Star or whatever her name was," she grumbled. "You have her photo right there." She pointed at the image accusingly, it was creased and sitting on the end table beside the couch propped up against the lamp. It depicted Ridley in his black shirt eating noodles, once a part of evidence during the Suburban Killer crime, Tim had reclaimed it as soon as he was able and never let on to Ridley that the sick killer had ever had it. "She's wearing the shirt you wouldn't let me wear," Serena remarked frostily, "and eating those noodles you hate so much."

"Yeah, you're right, it is a good picture," Tim retorted mockingly. "Look Serena I really am sorry but it's not going to work out between us."

"Because I'm not a detective you clearly have issues with," Serena answered bitingly as she picked up her handbag. "Well it's your loss Speed, I mean if it was going to work with her it would have already."

"Yeah well I guess I like a challenge after all," he retorted sardonically before he stood up to lead her to the door.

* * *

Ridley glanced at The Miami Sun with unease; it had been two weeks now since the gruesome tea party murders, which were still making front page news. Worse, her name was starting to become heavily linked to these cases and once again Detective Moon was become synonymous with weird cases. Today the paper's front page boasted an unflattering picture of her battered and bruised in crutches with the caption 'Detective Moon Haunted By Madness Again' it meant the mad killers she seemed to constantly chase but she pondered grimly at the alternate implication and knew the press would have a field day if they knew she had a psychiatrist.

She gazed over the other papers in the rack and visibly flinched at the image of Justin staring back and the cruel caption below him stating 'Who will die this time?' Feeling slightly nauseous now she hastened out of the shop, head bowed as she feared recognition and hurried to her car. Screw breakfast; she could go without breakfast today.

She arrived at the Miami-Dade headquarters in time to steal Horatio's space with two minutes to spare and entered the building with a forced smile. She made a point of avoiding all the curious, questioning and worse, pitying, glances as she headed up to the lab where she found Eric already hard at work trying to match LSD batches to the one found in the butter at the Hayir household.

Eric looked at Ridley with the same pity several people downstairs had which prompted her to quip quickly, "any new leads?" before he could make a remark about the headlines.

Eric gave a slightly hopeful nod. "We have a dealer on the outskirts of town who tends to deal to crazies, and rumours from certain drug users who want to avoid time suggest a man went to him a few weeks ago, a tall man wearing, get this, a top hat and a white rabbit mask."

Ridley smiled confidently. "You're kidding. Well that's him or someone connected to him," she added thoughtfully. She recalled how her theory of the Suburban Legends Killer having allies had proved true and how in an ironic twist his ally in Miami had been someone she had known. She shuddered at the thought of Will Maguire, now rotting in prison, just a five year sentence because he had co-operated and given them information on the killer, it wasn't enough, not even close but Will hadn't harmed anyone. He had admitted to requesting one victim's death but as he hadn't paid for it or arranged it they couldn't get him for hiring an assassin and though they knew he had raped Ridley's friend Ruby they couldn't get him for that either thanks to a technicality and the fact that he had obviously claimed it was consensual and Ruby simply liked it rough. It made Ridley sick even now thinking about it and she shuddered as she thought of how Will had kissed and embraced her more than once.

"Are you okay Ridley?" Eric pried with a concerned glance.

"Fine," she assured with a nod and a smile he wasn't even slightly fooled by. "I think I'll go over the costume evidence again, apparently they had several factories, including one in Florida." She hurried off to where the costumes were.

Half an hour later found them all in Horatio's office going through the evidence again. Everyone had read the headlines but no one mentioned it. Seeing photographs of the remains of the Hayir kids had put a further dampener on Ridley's day. Dead children were always the worst and something she didn't think anyone could used to, not even the hardest and most experienced of cops. Even Horatio looked angry staring at the chopped up body parts of young Eliza.

"The shoes and the bow," Ridley murmured excitedly as she gestured down to a photo of Estella's glittering blue shoes and then to the black hairband with a gigantic blue bow on it.

"Her mother did say she wouldn't be caught dead in those," Calleigh commented airily as she glanced over Ridley's shoulder, "poor choice of words don't you think?"

"Is there something about them?" Horatio queried carefully as he stepped up to Ridley's right side.

"Look at them," she said confidently, "they're new, they're too clean and the other pieces were about twenty years old, even untouched things still show age, plus I don't think shoes like those were around twenty years ago. They're uncommon though, I found plenty of novelty glitter shoes and oversized bows online but nothing quite the same, I don't think..." She trailed off as an odd look crossed her face.

"Do you have a theory?" Tim murmured wearily. They hadn't talked much since her apologetic text message; he had sent her a blunt reply saying it was 'fine' but that was it.

"Yes," Ridley said suddenly with a nod, "what if he made them? Imperfect Alice and perfect Alice, what if she really was perfect Alice because he didn't just take his time killing her he took his time making her."

"So he kills people and makes costumes, good hobbies," Eric retorted brightly.

"The dress fitted her perfectly," Ridley reminded them, "as did the shoes, he got them after he captured her, I'm certain of it, maybe he modified the dress size wise but it doesn't look like it but I'm not buying that the shoe size was a coincidence, I think he got Miss van le Rael and then-"

"He went shoe shopping," Horatio interrupted with a wry smile. "Very good, take a look at the shoes, narrow it down," he ordered.

Ridley nodded and hastened off back to the lab to take another look at the shoes and the hair band leaving the others in Horatio's office.

"So has she seen the papers?" Eric asked the obvious as he glanced over at Horatio.

"I would think so," Horatio answered calmly.

"Assholes," Calleigh scorned, "they had photos of Detective Silver and Ruby, it's so cruel."

"Should we say something?" Eric queried, his chocolate brown gaze flickering from Horatio to Speed.

"No," it was Calleigh who answered, "I mean she's broken down once, none of us wants that again. If she wants to talk about it, let her make the decision but if distracting herself from it with work helps then maybe we should just go along with that."

Horatio looked thoughtful at the blonde's words as he debated over it. "For now," he murmured quietly.

The rest of the day past by swiftly, after picking off some of the glitter and peeling back some leather Ridley finally got a brand name for the shoes, of course they were stocked in most shops in the city and she couldn't figure out where the giant bow had come from. In the end Horatio suggested Eric take the lead with his drug dealer link, of course Eric needed evidence to lift the dealer for questioning, knowing that he was a dealer wasn't enough.

Tim's shift ended first around six, and then Calleigh called it a night, reminding Ridley about Friday before she slipped off. Ridley finally called it a night just after eight when Horatio said she had done a long enough day and ordered her home.

She made it back to her home in record time and was surprised to see Tim's car sitting outside. As she pulled up the drive she spotted him standing just in front of the porch smoking under the fading sunlight.

Ridley stepped out of her car and approached him calmly. "Evening," she greeted calmly.

"I saw the papers," he explained bluntly, "we all did and I know you have and I was concerned."

She bowed her head slightly. "Some shoddy journalism," she grumbled. Her eyes flickered down to the paper abandoned in her porch, by a paperboy presumably though the suspicious side of her wondered if it was someone else. When she saw the photograph The Miami Herald had gone with she suddenly felt dizzy. All day she had tried to put it out of her mind, forced it back with work and now here it was, still taunting her.

Tim followed her stare when he saw how she started shaking and immediately cursed himself for failing to notice the paper just lying there, the colourful image of Ridley down a hole and in a coffin for the world to see. "Shit," he cursed bluntly as he stepped up to the porch and kicked it carelessly to one side, banishing the image. Her hands were shaking again, prompting Tim to tug out the spare key he had never bothered to surrender and open her door. "They're vultures," he grumbled as he urged Ridley into her house and stubbed out his cigarette against her porch wall before flicking it onto the path before the porch.

"It was so dark there," she murmured, "I couldn't breathe and everything hurt. God it's not going to stop is it? All these memories, if I'm not thinking about it someone else is and then I'm reminded again."

Tim turned back to her with a look of concern, leaning past her to tug the front door shut. "I have nightmares about it too," he confessed quietly.

She blinked and looked at him confusion, he hadn't been the one who had been locked up and tortured how could he have nightmares? "Of what?" she croaked.

"Of that telltale blood spatter on my carpet with my gun lying beside it, completely useless, of you lying in that coffin, bleeding out and not breathing, fuck I really thought you were dead when we found you there, of your screams, I've heard them a hundred times since I listened to that tape and I hate myself for them every time because I let you go. I've nightmares of you lying in that hospital, small and grey and I wondered every time I saw you if you would ever really recover."

"I wouldn't have without you guys," she admitted quietly as she rubbed at her watery eyes fiercely with a trembling wrist. She lowered her hand and looked about awkwardly. "Sorry, I'm not being a good hostess, do you want a coffee?"

"I'll make it; you go sit in the living room."

Ridley obeyed, halting in the living room doorway to call, "there's no milk. I...I went to get some this morning but..." She trailed off weakly and hastened into the living room, sitting down on the battered blue-grey sofa.

A couple of minutes later Tim joined her with two dark coffees full of sugar. He sat down beside her with a small gap left between them and rubbed at his fluffy dark hair awkwardly. He had meant to brush it but he knew Ridley liked it fluffy although he had to wonder if that small fact actually mattered at all. Serena had preferred it neat and Tim clean shaven and had voiced that opinion a couple of times, prompting Tim to let his stubble grow just a little. Of course it didn't matter now, Serena was gone.

Ridley looked at her cup dully as she hugged herself tightly. "I thought I would die in that box and no one would know," she confessed. "I wanted to die in that box because I was so sore and scared and I thought if I died you would all be safe. I deserved to, I failed Justin and Ruby, Ruby died because I stayed in her house."

"Don't talk like that Ridley, don't you dare," Tim said sternly. "It's just rubbish the papers have come up with because they've nothing better to do, don't let it set you back."

She nodded as she looked at him, he was wearing that chestnut scented aftershave again and her favourite black shirt, only last time she had smelt that shirt there had been violets on it. She gave a bitter smile at that thought.

"What are you thinking?" Tim pried.

"Nothing," she lied, seeing his unimpressed glower she admitted, "okay something. I...you're wearing my favourite shirt er..." She faltered as her cheeks turned a faint pink. "I mean my favourite shirt on you, that's all and I was wondering if Serena noticed how um...cute you look in it." She bowed her head awkwardly, wishing she could take back most if not everything she had just said.

"Right..." Tim didn't know what to say to that. "I..." He sighed heavily and tugged the shirt off leaving him in just a black t-shirt and his scruffy jeans. "I know wearing it makes you feel better," he admitted. It was a half-truth; the other half of the truth was that he hoped her vanilla scent would rub back onto it. 'Pathetic,' he scorned himself.

Ridley looked at it in surprise and then her gaze flickered up to Tim as she slung off her blazer and tugged the shirt on over her navy vest top. She hugged it close shamelessly and continued to stare at the now awkward looking CSI. "It does," she admitted, relieved to find that the shirt just smelled of Tim now, no violets. "You washed it," she realised with a wry smile, "that's not like you."

"It was starting to smell," he grumbled.

"It was," she agreed, her blush deepening at her words.

"You should keep it for a bit," he offered, "you look cuter in it than me."

"Maybe," she murmured jokingly.

He wanted desperately to hug her, to pull her close and breathe in her vanilla scent and nuzzle her silky, dark hair, God he missed doing that. Instead he made himself turn away, pick up his cup of cooled coffee and take a gulp.

"I liked hearing your heart beat too," Ridley said quietly. "I don't think I ever told you but when Ruby...when Ruby was killed and you let me sit with you, all I could hear was your heart and I knew I was safe because it was calm, and in the hospital it was the same, just this steady, soothing beat letting me know that everything was alright. That meant a lot to me."

"After everything you had been through I just wanted to make it a bit better," Tim murmured with an awkward look. "I still do, I just want to hold you close and keep you safe, just keep you against me until everything's better." He cracked a sardonic smile at this. "But it just doesn't work that way, still it's nice, even for a few minutes, to have you close to me."

"I...shit Tim you have a girlfriend."

"No," he answered in a serious tone, "I don't and fuck it Ridley I'm not going to have another until it's you. If it's awkward and uncomfortable fine, I don't care, you wanted me to move on, and I gave it a shot to make you jealous because I'm petty like that and then you didn't react and I thought maybe you didn't care but maybe I was just being an asshole. Look I can't promise I won't get mad, I think I proved in the lab that I will but I still want to try."

Ridley moved towards him slowly, nervously even and he was purposely still, afraid that if he did anything or said anything it would only spook her. He gave a small smile when she pressed the side of her head against his chest lightly and placed his left arm around her tenderly.

"Bump, bump, bump," she murmured softly. "Safe, right?"

"Right," he assured.


	9. Chapter 8- Night at the Circus

Eric entered Horatio's office with a proud smile; his waiting game had paid off, although it had been in a grim way. A fourteen-year-old boy had died after overdosing on heroin; the dealer was proved to be one Lucas Adams who was also suspected of dealing to a man in an odd hat and a white rabbit mask and he was ready to make a deal when he learned that the fourteen-year-old boy's father was a lawyer with connections pushing hard for a murder charge. Now he was going to do time but he wasn't going to get the death penalty.

"Adams talked," Eric announced, "and our potential suspect apparently wasn't quite the oddity we thought."

"Meaning?" Tim queried wearily as he rolled his tired brown eyes up to his friend. The papers had started to point out how it was now one year since the Suburban Legends killer had come to Miami and were drawing unfair and unfavourable comparisons to him and this new oddball, pointing out the unusual theme of the kills, the similar time of year, the fact that the Suburban killer had actually stopped over summer didn't seem to matter, and the fact that Detective Moon and Lieutenant Caine were on both cases. Tim couldn't be sure but he had a sneaking suspicion it was Horatio himself who had let his own name leak to the papers, as the higher ranking officer Horatio's name and photographs became more popular in the news than Ridley's and he had the pleasure of taking all the grumblings from his superiors. Tim highly doubted that Horatio had been seeking publicity, rather he was trying to deter it from Ridley, at least that was what Tim suspected but he knew better than to ask. Having Ridley in the limelight again had prompted Tim to work longer hours in an attempt to find a strong lead in this case and nip it in the bud before Ridley got dragged down by it but so far he had nothing.

"There's a circus in town, about twenty minutes from where Adams was dealing the night he met our friend, he says he doesn't know for certain but he assumed that's where our guy came from. He asked for enough LSD to supply ten people and paid in cash in full and nope, before you ask, Adams did not keep any of those notes around."

A wry smile broke out across Horatio's face. "Circo de Ammiratio."

"The Circus of Wonder," Calleigh translated as she looked at her superior curiously, "you know it?"

The redhead shook his head. "No but I think I would like to see the show."

"We don't exactly have enough for a warrant," Tim pointed out quickly.

Ridley looked at the traces expert curiously; he seemed to have a slightly nervous glint in his brown eyes.

"There's no harm in questioning, it's simply procedure," Horatio answered calmly.

"We might spook him," Tim retorted hastily.

"We might or we might learn a bit more about him," Horatio replied as he too looked at Tim with interest. "Calleigh and I can do it," he suggested, "less cops, less suspicion."

"It's meant to be a big circus," Eric was quick to argue as his eyes flickered over to the sitting blonde briefly, "and we can do low key. More importantly circuses are weird and there is no way our expert on weird is missing out on this." He grinned over at Ridley who gave a small smile back. "You're bound to like circuses, right Ridley?"

Ridley shrugged. "I've only been to one, Justin took me."

"Oh, a murder case?" Eric asked excitedly.

"Um..." Ridley glanced at the floor as she felt her cheeks blush slightly. "No, they were only in the city for three days but it was fun."

Tim scowled but said nothing, he doubted he would ever get used to Ridley talking about her dead partner with an inappropriate fondness but he was at least getting better at keeping his opinions about it to himself.

"Well we'll all go," Eric said happily, "except grumpy since he hates everything fun."

Tim's scowl deepened as he glared up at his friend. "I'm going, it's a public place, taking photos is perfectly legal and we both know your photography is dodgy at best."

"Hey," Eric protested defensively, "my photography is great and at least my interviewing skills are better than yours."

"Since when?" Tim demanded as he stood up from his chair.

Eric folded his swarthy arms and smirked. "Mrs Valesque Speed, that's all I'm going to say."

Calleigh let out a giggle before she was quick to clap a hand on her mouth to silence it as Tim gave her a dark look.

"Who's that?" Ridley queried with a confused look.

"Eddie Marquez's boss and mother," Eric informed her as his smile widened, "only Speed didn't know that when he phoned her up to bluntly tell her that her employee was dead and to ask if she knew where or who he was delivering to at the time of his death."

Ridley's eyes widened as she looked up at Tim in horror. "You didn't!" she gasped as Eric sniggered.

"He did!" Eric blurted out between laughs.

Tim shook his head with a look of annoyance. "You're an ass Delko," he grumbled.

"Anyway," Horatio chided, "we should go now, it's coming up to eight, they'll be closing up for the night in a few hours."

"Speed you're not driving," Eric was quick to say.

"Whatever," Tim dismissed as he headed for the door, "just let me grab my camera."

* * *

"Wow this is incredible," Calleigh marvelled as they walked along the sandy and dirty, barren land the circus was calling a temporary home. Sandwiched between the beach and the city it was a perfect point for business and had plenty of space for the numerous attractions, the impressive big top, transport and parking.

"It's kind of sad," Ridley murmured as she eyed the colourful cages tigers, lions, snakes, a bear and, less threatening, dogs, rabbits and guinea pigs were caged in.

"I thought you liked the circus," Tim commented sardonically.

Ridley frowned up at him as he purposely avoided her expression by taking photos of the place. "The one I went to didn't have any animals and it wasn't so filthy, it just seemed magical."

"That sounds nice," Calleigh retorted wistfully. "I used to think circuses were magical too."

"Did you two also go fairy hunting in your youth?" Tim sneered.

"Ha ha Speed," Calleigh answered with a frown as she flicked back her platinum blonde locks.

"Remember guys low key," Horatio chided as he took a moment to survey the place. There was the big top, in the centre of course with the cliché red and white stripes that at this point could be considered both kitsch and vintage, smaller tents with old fashioned, colourful, wooden signs promising extraordinary performances and mysteries, many different caravans and cages both wooden and metal alike, stalls offering refreshments and fixed games, and a small collection of rides. Yellow and multi-coloured bulbs flickered around signs trying to lure people in and yet for all the lights and colour there seemed to be a lot of shadows and darkness too.

It was busy enough with guests and performers alike and full of noise, chatter, laughter, shouting, children crying, people arguing, animals growling, barking, whining, snarling and hissing, an unpleasant mixture of joy and despair. The air was sickly sweet, a combination of candy floss, popcorn, toffee apples, corndogs, vomit, animal faeces and urine. Horatio was starting to remember quickly just how much he loathed circuses and carnivals; they were a wicked deception, promising a moment of happiness for a steep fee all at someone or some poor animal's expense.

Tim visibly jumped when they walked past the guinea pigs and they let out several squeals. "Fuck!" he cursed eloquently as Eric started laughing.

Calleigh put her hands on her slender hips and looked at the dark haired male tauntingly. "Something wrong Speed?" she queried teasingly. It was rare to catch the ever sardonic male at a moment of weakness.

"Nothing," he grumbled as he scowled at the rodents, "fat mice."

Ridley gave a small smile as she paused to look in at the rabbits. She frowned at how cramped they were and how most of them seemed to be soiled in their own poo and were in need of a good grooming. "Poor creatures," she sympathised as she placed her hands on her knees and leaned into them. "This is animal cruelty."

"Well we can look into that," Horatio murmured, "but first thing's first."

Ridley frowned over at him thinking he sounded just a little dismissive of the issue. "I always wanted a rabbit," she commented as she stood upright again.

"Why?" Tim queried in disgust. "They shit everywhere."

"They're cute and fluffy," Ridley answered brightly.

"They taste good in stew, I'll give you that," the traces expert retorted teasingly.

Ridley rolled her eyes in disgust as she frowned at his retreating form.

"Should we split up?" Calleigh suggested as her clear blue eyes danced from the Hall of Mirrors to the big top itself.

"Okay, Eric, Speed, head round the right, ladies round the left and I'll go see if there are any particularly riveting performers. Please remember guys we can only pry so far without a warrant but if our guy's here we do have enough to bring him in for questioning however it's doubtful he's dumb enough to be wearing a white rabbit mask and black hat tonight, which means all we know for certain about him is he's about five feet eight, potentially Hispanic and somewhere in his forties. Of course this all comes from our very reliable drug dealer. That being said, find us something that will get us a warrant for this place and that would be great."

Horatio made a beeline for the big top, shamelessly using his badge to bypass the strongman who was also acting as a bouncer it seemed. The redhead stayed on the sidelines, standing at the bottom observing an electric performance by women in pale pink and lilac tutus on trapeziums. The audience gasped and cheered in awe and wonder as the women performed what appeared to be death defying stunts though the net below suggested otherwise. After five minutes of this the act finally ended and the ringmaster came out to the centre of the dusty floor as the net was pulled away.

Horatio arched a golden-red eyebrow at the sight of the ringmaster; she wasn't exactly what he would have expected. Tall, toned and tanned with dark, loose waves half-pulled up under a small, black top hat with a gold ribbon about it and a peacock's feather sticking out of it. She almost resembled a Vegas showgirl in her risqué costume and yet there was something about her that gave her an edge of classiness rather than tackiness. She was dressed in black shorts with gold cuffs and buttons, fishnet tights, glamorous, gold, knee high, leather boots, a white gypsy top sealed tight with a gold waistcoat, a ringmaster's long sleeved, vibrant red, velvet jacket with an open gold collar, gold shoulder pads, gold buttons and blue cuffs and finally a plush, blue bow at her throat with a gold centrepiece.

"Did you enjoy the performance?" she called into her glittering silver microphone as she flashed her perfect white teeth up at the audience.

The crowd roared and cheered in response.

She let out a musical laugh that seemed to be contagious and had everyone smiling; even the Lieutenant gave a slight grin as he admired her ability to charm an audience. "Good, well the show's not over! Please give a big cheer for Circo de Ammiratio's clowns!" She turned and walked away as music started blasting and six clowns appeared on tricycles and unicycles, juggling balls and pins.

Horatio moved discreetly round the ring until he reached the exiting ringmaster. She paused and looked at him curiously, her smoky edged green eyes lingering on his gold badge pointedly. "It's about time you guys got here," she commented wearily.

"And why is that?" Horatio queried curiously.

She smiled politely as she stepped up to him and held out a gold gloved hand. "Apologies, I'm Nina Balksom, I'm the one who made the complaint."

Horatio accepted her hand, giving it a brief shake before he released it again. "Lieutenant Caine and I think there's been a mistake, I'm here following procedure on a case of mine, not a complaint."

Nina muttered a curse before placing her hands on her wide hips and shaking her head scornfully. "God you guys don't care do you? You probably hope the bastards succeed."

"Miss Balksom I assure you I care a good deal about a great many things and I'm not apathetic to your issue it simply has not reached my attention."

"Right," she grumbled, "and how do you know I'm Miss?"

"Call it a hunch," he retorted merrily as he pushed back the ends of his pale grey blazer. "How about we trade Miss Balksom? You help me with my problem and I will help you with yours if it is a police matter."

"It is," she retorted defensively, "animal activists, at first it was just vandalism, then they let the dogs out and last night they tried to free a tiger and shot at several of my colleagues, just blanks but dangerous enough. Your lot came by but by the time they made it here the little merdes, pardon my French, were long gone and no one made much of an effort to follow it up. Now we've seen them skulking about again, this is our last night here, they're going to cause trouble."

Horatio gave a small smile at her deliberately literal remark about French before he nodded sympathetically. "And what do they look like?" His smile vanished just as quickly and he looked suddenly to the open tent doors. He could hear screams.

Within seconds the big top erupted into chaos as two elephants came charging in, wild eyed as they waved their trunks and stomped in at a frighteningly fast pace. One smacked its trunk hard against the main post in the centre of the ring and that was all it took. Horatio was quick to seize Miss Balksom by one arm and start running for the open doorway he had entered through as the tent began to collapse around them.

Outside, in the midst of the chaos, Calleigh and Ridley found themselves caught up in a stampede of a different kind as people ran in a panic, colliding into them as they did. BANG! BANG! Ridley was quick to reach for her gun at the familiar sound as screams filled in the air.

"Ridley!" Calleigh cried out in alarm as she reached for her own gun and tried to spot her colleague in the chaos. "What in the hell is going on?" She glimpsed figures clad in black wearing animal masks and firing guns into the air, cheap pistols from the looks of it, the blonde thought it was a wonder none of them were misfiring they looked so shoddy.

She tried to fight her way back, elbowing and shouting out at people for order as she moved towards the perpetrators. Her clear blue eyes widened as she saw the small pack of poodles running about yelping maniacally. She let out a wince when she was shoved hard against an abandoned popcorn stall.

Ridley meanwhile found herself being pushed further and further away until the crowd finally dissipated around her and she found herself at the outskirts of the Hall of Mirrors where two young girls and a boy were standing looking up at her nervously. Ridley tensed when she saw their eyes go wide and their skin turn chalk white as a low growl called from behind her. Slowly she pulled back part of her navy blue blazer to give the children a glimpse of her silver badge before she nodded towards the mirrors. "Go," she ordered quietly.

The children exchanged several looks before another growl sounded out and they hurried on their way. Ridley glanced over her shoulder briefly and just managed to suppress a tremble at the sight of a very real, very large and very free Bengal tiger. When it made to pounce she didn't think she just ran, following after the children.

Ridley caught up to the kids hastily as she heard the tiger's paws scrape in the dirt behind them. "Left!" she snapped as she turned them that way sharply to avoid a deceptively clear mirror that seemed to suggest a path ahead of them.

Mirrors everywhere, Ridley glimpsed a hundred warped images of herself as they moved further and further into the Hall of Mirrors. Three children quickly became a dozen, a blonde girl with blue eyes who looked a little like a miniature Calleigh, a rosy cheeked, sandy haired boy and a quivering redheaded, freckled girl.

Left, right, bang! Ridley swallowed a curse as she banged up against a mirror and turned quickly searching for an exit.

"Are we going to die?" the redhead queried through a sob.

"No," Ridley assured with a forced smile. "Come on I bet you kids have done this maze a hundred times, it's easy, we'll be out of here in no time."

"And the tiger?" the boy choked out nervously.

"He'll be trapped, he probably thinks there are a hundred tigers in here with him, he's stupid but you guys are too clever to be tricked like that, right?" The words died on her lips as they turned a corner and she looked ahead.

There were twenty men there, all clad in black and all wearing hawk masks. She lifted her gun before letting out a curse, it was impossible to tell which was the real one and she knew all too well how deadly shooting a mirror could be. Besides, what had he done? He seemed to come closer and the image of the hawk grew large and deformed in six of the mirrors, forming a ring about her. "Get out of here!" she snapped angrily as she felt her heart pounding hard and loud.

She took a chance and moved with the kids, her arms spreading around them from behind as she tried to keep them close and in front of her, all too aware of a tiger potentially behind them. "Almost there," she assured the children as they whimpered every time they seemed to run into a dead end, "it's just a game. The tiger's long gone," she lied, "now we just have to get out of here but I know that's no problem for you guys."

Right, left, fat images, small images; it was a nightmare, a dozen images of Ridley looking unsure, weak, endless reflections taunting her. 'No,' she thought to herself firmly, 'it's just an illusion. Come, on, keep the kids safe.'

The screams erupted out of them all at once as they saw six tigers ready to pounce. Shards of mirror flew everywhere as the one real tiger crashed through one unexpectedly as it tried to grab for the reflection of the boy. "Cover your eyes!" Ridley snapped as she immediately stepped in front of them and raised her gun. Thousands of tiny images of a tiger and herself rained about her as she tried to spy the real thing before it spotted the children. There to the right, that was no illusion! BANG!

It turned with a wild roar and sprang for her; she feinted to the left and let out a scream as its powerful claws managed to catch her right arm, dragging a deep wound down it as the power of its attack forced her to the ground. She banged her head hard and only just managed to yell, "RUN!"

It turned as the children started to flee; the distraction was what stopped it from pinning Ridley down and ripping her to shreds. She rolled, lifted her gun and fired swiftly. No hesitation, no time, if she failed then it could cost the children everything. BANG! This shot seemed to take forever to hum through the air and slam point blank between the tiger's eyes. It reared with a roar of pain, making to swat at its face before it keeled over to the left.

Ridley looked at the twitching body with unease as several pants escaped her. It was a tragic and unnecessary waste. 'What madman let that thing out?' she wondered as she forced herself to her feet, gasping at the pain that sang through her arm. She realised that it was trembling again and guessed it had been adrenaline that had kept her hand straight when aiming. Despite the pain and quivering she refused to sheathe her gun as she could still hear screams singing through the night air.

She moved forward at an agonisingly slow pace, leaning against the mirrors for support, smearing her blood along more than a few of them. She was bleeding out fast and beginning to feel dizzy. 'One more step,' she urged herself, 'just keep going. Got to make sure the kids are alright.'

Tim and Eric weaved through the crowds, caravans and stalls anxiously, their eyes going wide at the sight of llamas, camels, dogs and ostriches running amok.

"What the hell is going on?" Eric shouted anxiously.

Tim was too busy wondering what else was loose to contemplate an answer as they moved. He could see masked figures clad in black running about waving items. He squinted through the dust and the chaos, wondering if the figures were armed.

Eric let out a curse and moved forward frantically and almost violently as he spotted Calleigh crumpled to the left, motionless as she was propped up awkwardly against a caravan. "Calleigh!" he called out to her anxiously as he shoved people out of his way forcefully, terrified that she would be swept up in the chaos.

Tim found himself on the edge of the skirmish, moving around abandoned balloon stalls and game stands. He froze as he came face to face with an eerie looking white rabbit masked man. The black eye sockets seemed to turn down to Tim's badge glinting silver in the light and his hand reaching for his gun.

BANG!

The CSI filled with shock as his chest seemed to explode in pain and his body went falling back with the force of the blow. He had been too slow to go for his gun.

"TIM! TIM!" Ridley shrieked as she saw the dark haired man collapse after the sound of gunfire. She made herself move, breaking out into a run and shoving her way through the throng of people.


	10. Chapter 9- Bang Bang

Tim Speedle was choking, his throat felt clogged and his mouth was polluted with a hot, salty, almost metallic taste. His chest was on fire but everything else felt cold, numb even and his eyes seemed fixed on the cloudy sky, despite his best efforts he could not get them to focus.

"Don't you dare Tim!" Ridley shouted as she pressed down hard on his wound. "Not like this! You don't get to do this!" She was panting hard, her body was soaked with sweat and she was covered in blood, though it was impossible to tell what was hers and what was his. The blood had bloomed from his chest like a flower in spring only it wouldn't stop, his shirt was ruined and it was beginning to soak around his sides and turn his pale flesh sticky.

Tim thought he could hear someone shrieking but there was a terrible ringing in his ears distorting the words. "I...I can't..." He tried to speak but blood leaked out with every word.

"Shit Tim don't speak!" Ridley snapped as she continued pressing down with both hands with all her strength. "Please just breathe okay? Just keep breathing!"

His chest wasn't burning anymore, it should have been good but he didn't think it was and the clouds were blurring and everything was turning black at the edges. "I can't feel...anything." No that wasn't right, he felt fear, yes definitely mind numbing terror that crawled through him replacing the burning and the numbness and made him loose control of his bowels. Oh fuck, it wasn't going to be like this was it? You lost control in your last moments, he knew that, he'd seen and smelt the evidence of it enough times. Fuck this was humiliating!

"Ridley let go, the ambulance is here now, let the paramedics do their job," Horatio was using his brittle calm voice again, the voice that tried to be professional but was so close to the edge. He had arrived on the scene just a minute before the paramedics and had barely assessed Tim's state. His face went chalk white as he knelt beside the stern faced New Yorker and reached out a hand to her.

Ridley? Damnit was she here? Was she witnessing this? Tim's eyes were getting tired, heavy, he didn't know whether to close them or not. If he had to go he would rather spare Ridley having his glassy stare fixed up on her but closing his eyes just seemed like giving in. Shit he was terrified now, his heart was pumping too fast, he thought it might burst from the pressure or simply just stop. He didn't want to go out like this, hell he didn't want to go out at all but not at thirty-four and not with Ridley so fragile, so close to breaking again, damnit this would ruin her. Never mind everything else, all his plans, his future, alright he hadn't really committed to that, he had thought he had plenty of time but he still wanted one!

Horatio pulled Ridley off forcefully when she wouldn't come willingly, wincing as she fought against him with a scream whilst the paramedics rushed to stop the bleeding. Ridley's eyes went wide as she turned her head in time to see Tim turn a horrible shade of blue and go still.

"He's not breathing!"

"No!" she screamed as she shook against Horatio's firm grasp. "NO! NO! YOU DON'T GET TO DO THIS!"

* * *

Horatio Caine bowed his head wearily before fixing his tired blue eyes on the trembling detective in front of him. It had taken a while before he had twigged that the blood on Ridley wasn't just Tim's, he supposed it was shock on his part but that was no excuse, it was only when she had nearly passed out from blood loss in his grasp that he had realised. Two hours later along with several stitches and injections and Ridley was now close to normality again. Her right arm was bandaged tight and in a sling whilst she sat hooked to a drip of blood with a nervous look in her grey-brown eyes.

"Tim?" She made his name a question as she looked up at Horatio fearfully, not daring to hope. Two hours she had spent alone, completely unaware of what was happening to Tim or Calleigh as Eric stayed with the blonde and Horatio stuck to the dark haired CSI.

"He's in a serious condition," Horatio admitted as he stepped up to her bedside, "but they're confident he will recover."

"How confident?" her voice was quiet, immediately doubting.

Horatio gave her a small, reassuring smile though it took a lot of effort to do so. "He's going to be okay Ridley," he informed her calmly, "it's just going to take time."

"Right." She bowed her head quickly and rubbed at the fresh tears that had formed with her free hand. "And Calleigh?" she quipped suddenly, feeling horrid for not even considering the blonde in that moment.

"A minor bump to the head and a few scrapes," the redhead retorted in a slightly happier tone, "she was knocked out but she's not concussed, the doctors did want to keep her for observation but you know Calleigh, she checked herself out. She wanted to see you in fact but Eric and I thought it best that she got some rest first."

"Yeah," Ridley agreed with a hint of relief in her voice. "When can I go?"

"Not until tomorrow," Horatio answered sternly, "and that is an order Detective Moon."

She slumped slightly in the bed with a frown. "Where is Tim?"

"In the intensive care unit," Horatio replied as he sat in the holey leather chair that was in definite need of a trip to the dump, "just two floors up."

"And who's with him?" she demanded as she fixed an accusing stare on the lieutenant.

"The doctors and nurses," Horatio answered, still calm. "He's not allowed any visitors yet but I do have two uniforms outside, don't worry."

Ridley shook her head. "Why did it happen?" she wondered aloud. "Was it him? How did he know we would be there?"

"We can't jump to conclusions," Horatio reminded her gently. "I have Frank and the others looking into it as we speak. Miss Balksom, the ringmaster of the circus, was in the middle of telling me about trouble with animal rights activists who had been becoming increasingly violent, and given the amount of animals loose it's entirely possible that they were connected. However, the few rounded up were just firing blanks; they wanted to create a distraction apparently."

Ridley frowned at this. "The bullet that shot Tim was no blank."

"I know, so it's possible someone else was taking advantage of the chaos but wasn't expecting to bump into a cop and panicked. That's all we know so far Ridley but if I learn anything else you will know. In the mean time, you need your rest, how's the arm anyway?"

"Sore," she grumbled.

Horatio gave a flicker of a smile at this. "You'll have to put tiger tamer on your resume," he teased.

Ridley shook her head chidingly, unable to smile as all she could think of was Tim. How serious was serious? He was in intensive care, that couldn't be good, she knew that firsthand having spent enough time in there herself just a matter of months ago. "They insisted on checking me over," she confessed quietly. "There was so much blood and...they were worried about bruising and internal wounds...I don't know...maybe a busted organ or something..." She sighed and suppressed a shudder. "They asked questions you know; about the marks...they thought..." She blinked back the fresh salty tears and shook her head in frustration. "Never mind."

"It's okay Ridley," Horatio said gently, "I can imagine what the medics wanted to discuss with you. It's going to be hard for a while yet but you're getting there."

"I don't know that I am," she murmured. "Will you go back to Tim please? Even if you can't go into him, he needs someone near."

"I'll check on him in a while," the redhead assured as he reached out a hand to push some of her lank, dark hair away from her face, "but for now don't worry, just try and get some sleep Ridley." He leaned back against the exposed sponge back of the chair and Ridley knew he wasn't going to be going anywhere soon no matter what she said.

The New Yorker let out another sigh as she leaned back against her pillow. She stubbornly fought against sleep until the nurse came twenty minutes later and gave her another drip of pain killers, then she was forced to give in as the medicine lulled into her exhaustion.

Horatio gave a small, satisfied smile when the young woman finally nodded off. He would never say it to her but he knew as well as Tim that she wouldn't sleep alone in a hospital, she was too vulnerable here, too weak and too exposed, she was restrained here and so many people could have access to her effortlessly. The redhead understood all that, after all she had been through it was easy enough to sympathise but he knew better than to speak of it, knowing she would only fear it was an implication of her shattered psyche.

* * *

"He doesn't want to see you." Eric hated how his voice sounded, blunt and cruel despite his best efforts to be sympathetic about it. He hated even more the dejected look in Ridley's face before she masked it with acceptance quickly, a little too quickly he thought.

"Why not?" she asked calmly. Eric thought she deserved a prize for almost being able to mimic Horatio's mastered brittle calm.

Eric shrugged. "I don't know Ridley but he asked me to tell you not to see him," he explained awkwardly. "He was quite firm about it but he's pretty out of it with drugs," he offered an excuse, a lame one but it was the best he could do. "Just give him a few days."

Ridley nodded weakly. It had already been five days since Tim had been admitted to hospital, at first Horatio and the others had tactfully kept her away by stating no visitors were allowed when she had to check out, then urging her home for rest, and then to Calleigh's. She had protested until Horatio had insisted that Tim was still in intensive care and therefore just wasn't up to visitors. Now though the facade had come down and Eric was forced to tell her the truth, that Tim simply wouldn't see her.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Eric said awkwardly.

"It's alright, I pushed him away," she retorted softly, "he's entitled to do the same. But tell him I was here, and tell him I'll be back later and tomorrow and so on until he changes his mind." She turned before Eric could retort and hastened off.

Eric sighed angrily and muttered several curses before he turned back to the ward door and re-entered Tim's hospital room. The dark haired man was pallid, soaked in sweat and looked more exhausted and grumpy than usual with heavy, dark bags under his eyes. He was hooked up to several drips and monitors and had a layer of bandages wrapped tightly about his torso. To Eric his friend looked vulnerable and he knew it was killing Tim inside to be that way, despite this though Eric still managed to muster some anger as he stepped up to Tim's bed.

"Just so you know you've really upset her," Eric said harshly, "and she's going to keep coming back until you let her in."

"Give me a break Delko," Tim grumbled angrily. Even his voice sounded weak much to his chagrin, his chest felt tight like someone was constantly crushing it and his body just seemed tired and heavy all the time.

Eric shook his head tiredly. "I'm sorry, I know you're going through hell but why won't you let Ridley see you? I thought you guys were getting better. I mean you almost died in her arms, that's rough."

"I don't want her to see me," Tim answered moodily as he rolled his eyes up to the grey tiled ceiling.

"Why not?" Eric snapped, pressing for an explanation.

"I'm tired man, just drop it," Tim grumbled.

"No, I'm sorry but no, I saw the way she looked Speed you didn't, she cares about you, a lot and yes, she spent long enough shutting you out but you can't be so frigging petty that you're doing it to get back at her."

"I'm not, alright!" Tim snapped as he glared at his friend. "I just don't want her seeing me like this okay!"

"Why not?" Eric repeated impatiently, emphasising the words this time.

"Because I look pathetic! Weak! How could I protect her like this? Shit, every time I look at her all I see is that scared, small woman in the hospital bed, bloody and tired and barely alive and I want to protect her and make it right again." He shook his head in angry frustration. "What I don't want is for every time she looks at me for her to just see this." He sagged in his bed pointedly, gesturing to himself with both hands though the effort cost him as pain laced up his body. "She will never think I'm capable of protecting her if she sees me like this."

Eric looked at Tim in disbelief for a moment as he struggled over what to say. "Well...alright that makes sense I suppose but it's still bullshit," he scorned at last. "You push her away, you make it worse. I'm learning that, why can't you?"

Tim just shook his head angrily. "I'm not talking about this anymore," he grumbled.

Eric sighed in frustration but resisted pursuing the matter.

It was just after four in the afternoon that Ridley returned as Tim was in the middle of being plagued by two unexpected guests. He looked at the door in relief when he heard it knock, anything to end this torture. He frowned when his mother opened the door to reveal Ridley. Anything except her.

Ridley looked up at the woman in surprise before flickering her nervous gaze past her to Tim, spying the older man seated at his bedside and looking at her with equal curiosity. She couldn't be certain but the similarities between Tim and the two people seemed obvious. "Sorry," she muttered awkwardly before turning away and hurrying off again.

Mrs. Speedle looked at the woman in surprise before turning back to Tim with an accusing, brown stare. "Is that someone I should go after?" she queried.

"No, God no," Tim grumbled tiredly.

"No one important then," his father, Mr. Arthur Speedle, commented dryly.

Tim knew his father was baiting him, he knew it and yet he gave into it. "I didn't say that," he retorted moodily.

"Well either she's important enough to go after or she isn't," Mr. Speedle retorted calmly as he folded his arms and looked down at his son with mild scorn. He was a swarthy man with short, greying hair and Tim's dark eyes.

"You guys aren't helping," Tim grumbled as he rolled his eyes up to the stained tiles above him.

"She had her arm in a sling," Mrs Speedle observed as she continued to stare down the corridor Ridley had retreated down, "was she injured with you?"

"Yes mum," Tim murmured, "her name's Detective Moon alright, Ridley Moon, now you know."

"Okay Tim," his mother retorted as she finally shut the door, "don't stress yourself out, it's not good for your heart."

'Fuck, fuck, fuck,' the curse repeated through the CSI's head numerous times as he only just managed to resist voicing it.

"I was just hopeful that you finally had a woman to look after you," his mother added sorrowfully as she stepped up to his bedside.

"Wait, Detective Moon?" His father caught onto the name prompting Tim to think several more curses. "That girl from the papers?"

"Yes dad," Tim snapped tiredly.

"Oh the girl you helped rescue from that coffin!" his mother exclaimed. "Poor thing, what a dreadful experience."

"That's a bit of an understatement," Tim retorted sardonically as he rolled his eyes. 'Buried alive,' he thought numbly, 'I didn't get it, how it felt to suffocate, to be in agony with the world fading away from you whilst you're powerless to do anything about it, I get it now. Fuck I wish I didn't.'

"Well maybe it's a good thing you're not close with her," his mother continued with a look of disapproval, "the papers don't portray her in the best light."

"Yes because they're so bloody accurate."

"Well Tim there's no smoke without fire, all that business in New York, one dead partner," she narrowed her green eyes suddenly and gave him a serious stare, "and now you're here, almost dead!"

"No connection," Tim retorted coldly.

"Are you sure?" his mother pounced on the idea. "She was with you wasn't she?"

"New Yorkers have terrible tempers," his father commented carelessly.

"Holy fuck," Tim exclaimed before he could help it.

"Timothy, language!" his mother scolded sharply.

"Guys I'm sore and tired and I don't want to talk about Ridley," Tim grumbled as he rolled over to his right side as best as he could manage. 'Or anything else,' he thought darkly.

"Ridley," his mother repeated, the scorn evident in her voice as she gave her son a knowing look that he felt even though he couldn't see it.

There was another knock on the door prompting Tim to look to it with angry exhaustion. His mother was quick to stand and scurry to it, hopeful that Ridley had returned. Instead she opened it to greet Horatio this time.

"Hi," he greeted politely, "I'm Lieutenant Caine." He glanced past Mrs. Speedle to look at Tim curiously. "Is this a bad time Speed?"

Tim looked at his superior tiredly and muttered, "no. Mum, dad can you please just go?"

"That's hardly the attitude," his mum complained, "we came all this way to see you. I feared the worst, my son in intensive care and linked to that cursed detective."

"Fuck mum she's not cursed, alright?!"

"Tim don't speak to your mother than way," his father scolded as he stood up. "We were terrified we were going to lose you."

"Well you didn't," he retorted heatedly, "I almost died but I didn't."

Horatio frowned slightly as he saw how the whites were showing in Tim's eyes, how he seemed to be sweating and his voice held a hint of anxiety in it.

"Tim you were in a very serious incident, please don't downplay it," his mother scolded as she reached out a hand to stroke his hair.

He jerked back with a scowl. "There's no point lingering on it," he muttered.

"Right, we'll go get dinner," his father suggested as he looked over at his wife. "Get some rest son."

He reached out a hand to his wife and guided her to the door. Lieutenant Caine stepped out of the way with a polite nod. "Good to meet you Lieutenant Caine," Mrs. Speedle said sincerely, "I'm Melina Speedle by the way, and this is my husband Arthur."

"Good to meet you both," Horatio answered cordially.

Mrs. Speedle glanced back at Tim with a gentle look. "Listen to your father, get some rest son your body needs it."

Once they were out of the room Tim gave the redhead a weary look. "I have to be honest H I'm really not up to anymore visits, I just wanted them to leave."

Horatio gave a calm nod. "I understand Speed I just wanted to see how you were and let you know that Ridley sends her regards."

Tim grimaced, knowing full well that Horatio must have met in the corridor. "Horatio I really don't want to talk about her," he said coldly.

Horatio slipped his hands in his grey trouser pockets and nodded again. "You know Speed almost dying, that's a difficult thing to come to terms with, sometimes you don't even realise you have a problem to deal with because of the shock."

"Don't do this," Tim pleaded as he looked at the redhead angrily with bloodshot eyes. "I'm sore and bloody helpless right now, I admit it but when I'm out of here it will be fine."

Horatio raised an eyebrow at this and gave Tim a serious stare with his dark blue eyes. "I'm not questioning your abilities or your psyche Speed," he said gently, "it's just protocol that's all, that agents injured on the job have some form of therapy. Incidentally Ridley's been out for three days straight and not attended any sessions, and I know she's struggling, when she was in here they asked about her previous injuries."

"Why are you telling me this?" Tim demanded angrily as he was too exhausted to play nice with his superior.

Horatio shrugged. "I'm not sure Speed, part of me thinks encouraging any interaction between you two is a bad idea but you do seem to be the only one who makes her feel better. You're also the only person apart from me who understands the full story, you know what Hawkes did to her, she told you, I can tell, and you saw her in that coffin same as I did, you saw everything she suffered with the Urban Legends killer."

"That's just it," Tim grumbled, "if she sees me like this she won't feel safe anymore, how could she? You understand that better than anyone Horatio, once you let her down that's it, she's been through too much. She doesn't even feel safe around you, which is ridiculous but it's the truth."

Horatio finally tugged his hands out of his pockets and rewarded Tim with a deep frown. "Tim she has already seen the worst with you, she was there when you were lying bleeding out, seeing you now isn't going to make a difference and frankly I think you're being unfair. You shouldn't still see her as the broken young woman we pulled out of her own grave, if you keep picturing her that way it makes it harder for her to break away from that. She's more than that, she's a tough, smart detective, she placed herself between three children and a tiger Tim, a tiger, she is capable of a lot of bravery when it counts. So are you, you got shot in the chest Tim, you almost died, there isn't a human on this planet who wouldn't have ended up in hospital or worse with a bullet to the chest and you are strong for surviving, which is what Ridley will think when you finally let her in."

Tim bowed his head with a guilty frown. "I need another day H."

"That's okay Speed, just don't start being evasive, you have seen how well that has worked for Ridley."

* * *

Tim was in the hospital a full two weeks before he finally caved into pressure from Eric and Calleigh and, more importantly, Horatio and let Ridley visit. He had been moved out of intensive care and his painkillers dosage had been lowered but he somehow felt worse. Nightmares had started and seemed to become more and more vivid with every night. Two nights ago he had screamed so loudly a nurse had come racing in convinced he was in agony. He had tried to attack her when she had shaken him awake, sweaty, pale faced and wide eyed. It was no surprise to him when a CSI designated therapist dropped by the next day.

The traces expert had been evasive, blunt and short tempered with the male therapist, belittling the psychological side effects from being shot and eventually cursing the man out of the room. After he had reflected on the irony of it when he had pressed so hard for Ridley to attend her sessions with the shrink. When Horatio had dropped by to scold him he had continued to be foul tempered, snapping that nightmares of being shot were normal and should be expected. He had tried and failed to bait the redhead into a fight, his anger turning into a guilty shock when Horatio had informed him bluntly that CSIs who did not follow protocol risked suspension and that he was fighting hard to stop Dr. Young from getting Ridley suspended for not attending her psychiatry sessions in two weeks. It was then that Tim had finally grumbled about talking to Ridley.

It just after two p.m when the New Yorker finally arrived clad in a flared blue skirt with gold buttons at the front, cream tights, blue, shiny shoes with gold bows on them, a sensible cream shirt with a blue ribbon hanging loose at the collar and her scarf. Tim frowned when he saw her, she seemed to be making a conscious effort to keep covered up despite the heat, the tights were opaque as was the shirt, which also had a high collar, making the scarf somewhat unnecessary, and long sleeves. He thought about Horatio's comment about the doctors in the hospital revisiting her old scars and wondered if she was trying to conceal them.

"Hi," she greeted with a small smile.

"Hi ringmaster," he retorted sardonically.

"Nope, that would be Nina Balksom or, as Calleigh and I like to call her, Horatio's weird crush."

"Wow what?"

Ridley's smile widened a little. "Calleigh didn't say? It's funny watching him try to interview her he gets...flustered."

"Horatio does not get flustered."

"Eric said the same thing, guess you guys just want to stick together but he does, it's...interesting."

Ridley stepped up to him at last, stopping at his left side before glancing from him to the seat awkwardly. "I've missed you Tim," she said softly. "I was so worried about you, even though everyone said you were doing well."

Tim winced as he suppressed a guilty scowl. "I...I wasn't trying to freeze you out Ridley I just didn't want you seeing me this way, bad enough you saw..." He trailed off and paled, unable to finish the sentence. _BANG! Just like that, so quick, so easy and him so fucking helpless to stop it._

"It's not easy," Ridley murmured, "seeing someone that way or being that way, I guess we both know both sides of it now."

Tim swallowed hard. "Anyway, that's it, I...my heart's probably not going to calm you now," he said bitterly. He could feel it racing a little too quickly against his chest as he saw that blank, disturbing rabbit mask and the cold black nozzle of a gun.

"It will," Ridley assured as she reached out a hand to his messy, dark hair and stroked it tenderly.

Tim reached up and clasped at her hand tightly, releasing it just as quickly when he saw the fear that darted through her eyes. He clenched his fists slightly as he resisted the urge to snap at her.

"It takes time Tim," she said softly.

"I know."


	11. Chapter 10- After the White Rabbit

It had been almost a month since Detective Speedle was shot, now he was finally back on duty and determined that things be as normal as possible at work, which wasn't easy thanks to unwanted therapy sessions, certain looks and murmurs of sympathy from colleagues and even a few female colleagues asking him if it still hurt, marvelling at his bravery (apparently then didn't know he'd had the misfortune to blunder into his shooter) and querying if he needed any help. It took less than a day before the rumour quickly spread that not only was Detective Speedle not interested in help but he was liable to verbally tear into anyone who offered it.

The circus had now gone, Lieutenant Caine had used as much clout as possible to detain it and given a member of the law enforcement was in intensive care that had worked well for a while but once it was obvious Detective Speedle was going to live Lieutenant Caine's influence had waned, especially with a lack of evidence linking any circus member to the crime. Worse, none of the would be animal liberators fitted the crime either and they all denied knowledge of anyone using a gun. Their guns had been pistols loaded with blanks and despite extensive searching round their properties and vehicles, all of which Horatio had made damn sure to get warrants for, the weapon which had shot Speed, a Browning Hi Power according to Calleigh, had not turned up nor had any legitimate bullets save for a couple of handguns, which were allegedly for protection and had licences to match them.

Horatio, Ridley and Frank had grilled all their potential suspects extensively, convinced that their shooter was a member of the circus blending in with the activists and potentially even connected to them. Horatio was considering the possibility that he had helped them create the chaos in the circus. Alas, there was no evidence and whilst several of the activists and circus members were willing to turn on each other when past criminal history was unearthed none of them was willing to roll on a rabbit masked male with a top hat and a gun. It was as frustrating as it was ludicrous. They spent hours going through all the names they had, their connections and their history, a strongman with a heroin problem, a family of illegal trapezium artists from Eastern Europe, an animal rights biology student who had a pot habit, another whose family had come from Cuba illegally but there were none who knew about a potential serial killer with a LSD habit.

In the end they had to let them go, the circus was in ruination anyway, two of the clowns were wanted in another state for a rape and murder charge, Ridley made certain the circus was done for animal cruelty and all of the animals were removed and sent to sanctuaries and the reputation of the chaos made it unsafe for future performances, never mind the cost of damage and the lawsuits piling in. The members had split and fled the city save for Nina Balksom who informed Horatio coolly that she did not run from questions and had nothing to hide. She had booked herself into a modestly priced hotel, murmuring about needing a holiday anyway, but as far as the CSIs could tell she was the only one who had stayed.

In frustration Ridley had gone back to the first part of the case, the woman in the Chimera House. She stayed in the crime lab researching whilst Tim and Eric dealt with a body on the beach, and Calleigh and Horatio took care of an alleged suicide in a hotel, incidentally the same hotel Nina was staying in. Though they highly doubted a connection Calleigh had made several jokes to Ridley about how Horatio would find a way to run into the former ringmaster despite the hotel having twelve floors.

* * *

It was coming up to four in the afternoon when Horatio and Calleigh arrived at the Ocean Avenue Palms Hotel, not the best name, thankfully it more than made up for it in looks. Miami was a city chock full of hotels, it boasted an entire strip of art deco themed ones on Ocean Drive, perhaps not as impressive as the listed Moorish Revialist buildings of northern neighbour Opa-locka they were still something to be admired. The hotels competed in size, appearance, appeal and show, at night they gave a neon light show worthy of Vegas and during the day they tried to lure people in with palm trees, pools and suspiciously wide smiled staff in clean cut, white suits who promised attention, admiration and, most importantly, discretion and even ignorance when required. It was this policy of turning a blind eye to drink, drugs and rock n roll if the guest was wealthy enough that made crimes in a hotel all the harder to solve. They should have been easy given each room was sterilised daily so the prints at a crime scene usually weren't too contaminated, and the hotels were always busy, even now coming into the autumn months, so there were numerous witnesses, guests and staff alike, but for some reason Horatio always found crimes in hotels to be a tricky business.

The Ocean Avenue Palms Hotel had an edge on its vast competition in that it had a prime spot near the pale golden sands of South Miami whilst holding the illusion of privacy thanks to several iron fences, tall palm trees and a wide space of land that was just greenery for show. There was a hint of art deco to the hotel with curved horizontal lines, rounded off corners and gold sunbursts at its front on either side of green palm trees framing the gold letters of Ocean Avenue Palms Hotel but it avoided the pastel colours of the other art deco hotels, having smooth, white walls instead with gold framing its numerous glinting windows. It also had carvings below its flat roof and above the top windows, columns at its main entrance supporting a long, wide porch and a mosaic at the entrance suggesting more than a hint of Ancient Greek influence to its design.

"Why Ocean Avenue Palms?" Calleigh queried aloud as she shut the door of the hummer and looked to the telltale police car at the front of the building at the right in a space undoubtedly reserved for taxis. "There is no Ocean Avenue in Miami."

Horatio shrugged with disinterest as he studied the mosaic of pale pink seahorses and blue dolphins. "To differentiate from all the Ocean Drive hotels probably," he murmured, "and Ocean House and Ocean View and Ocean Bay and Ocean Beauty, and Ocean Palms," he paused in his naming of hotels to give Calleigh a small smile.

"Point taken," the blonde murmured as she pushed back the tails of her pale pink shirt and followed Horatio to the lobby.

The lobby was as opulent as expected, with curved blue seats with white rounded arms mimicking the foam of the ocean, a turquoise, marble tiled floor, smooth, pale pink-orange walls suggesting a sunrise and tall lamps of gold shaped like palm trees with bulbs in coconut shaped glass hanging from the leaves. There was one wide desk to the right, also in the popular curved shape the hotel seemed fond of. It was a deep mahogany desk with several pamphlets on it and four computer screens behind it, two currently monitored by a male and female staff member both dressed in similar turquoise uniforms with gold, sun shaped name badges at their breasts. The lifts were to the left, four side by side with gleaming gold doors, the door to the stairs was beside them, and a shop was further back boasting snacks and items for the beach and pools.

Horatio tipped his shades slightly as he greeted the female receptionist with a small smile. "Good afternoon Sara, I'm Lieutenant Caine and this is my colleague Detective Duquesne, we are here responding to a call from my colleague Detective Salas about a death on your property." His blue eyes roved over the leaflets about the hotel boasting themed rooms for those willing to pay including nautical, medieval and circus, he had to wonder at the latter.

The thirty-something, brunette woman nodded awkwardly as her green eyes flickered nervously to her male colleague. She was obviously upset about the death and had probably never experienced anything like it before. "Fourth floor," she answered, almost shyly, "room 412, your...Detective Salas is still up there."

"Thank you," the redhead answered sincerely before he headed to the lift.

Calleigh followed, frowning at the cheesy elevator music that greeted them when they stepped in and Horatio pressed the round button for the fourth floor. "So it's October now," the blonde observed as she looked pointedly at Horatio. It was October 3rd to be precise, for the blonde summer seemed to have simultaneously rushed by and yet dragged by too as they were weighed down by problem after problem. She had thought they had almost seen the back of the drama until Speed had gotten shot, now though he was back on his feet and she was determined to be optimistic.

"Yes," Horatio answered as he looked back at his colleague curiously, "and it was September last month and it will be November next month unless someone's changed the calendar."

Calleigh gave him a scornful smile that was as effective as any frown. "It will be Ridley's twenty-ninth soon and I want it to be better than her twenty-eighth. It was different last year, she hardly knew us and she was down here on business but this year she's here as one of us, she's our friend. Look, on my birthday she made a point of sending me a card and a present all the way from New York and phoned me, and I know for a fact she sent you something, she joked about it though she wouldn't say what, the point is we have to make an effort."

Horatio kept his best poker face on and did not show his relief when the lift binged and the doors parted. As they walked up a soft, deep green turquoise carpet he thought dryly of the white Easter bunny teddy that had arrived in the post for him at the Miami-Dade Headquarters at the start of April for his birthday on April 7th. At first the stamps had made him a little wary but he had recognised the writing on the package and then of course there was 'Moon' on the return address, not her full name but enough so he would know. It now sat in his house in the living room propped up beside a photo of his late brother Ray, the size of a cat, it was fluffy with a pink nose, a small smile, black eyes, a yellow, silk bow and a matching egg in its right hand and a blue baseball cap on it with 'Happy Easter from NY' on it in black font. A week later Ridley had arrived; she had greeted him a polite, belated 'Happy Birthday' but never alluded to the present.

Horatio, though he would never confess to it, thought about the cheesy gift often and even looked to it with a degree of affection. To the lieutenant it was a sign that not only had Ridley mostly forgiven him for his numerous failures to save her but that she actually held him in some regard, he was more than just a colleague to her. It was a friendship he sorely wanted, partially out of guilt, he could certainly admit to that, but also because he was fond of the New Yorker, she was interesting, fun when she allowed herself to be, and probably one of the only people who could get away with parking in his spot.

"Alright Calleigh," he said tentatively as they reached the ajar door of room 412, "what do you have in mind?"

The blonde was delighted to hear Horatio actually consider her idea but the truth was she didn't have one yet. "Nothing in particular," she confessed, "but it is Halloween, I'm sure we can come up with something memorable. I'll ask Speed, he said that she actually did blow a pumpkin last year, so maybe all that stuff about dressing up as ghosts and scaring the neighbours on her birthday is true, maybe Ridley liked embracing part of it once."

"Horatio," Yelina greeted them with a tight smile, "Calleigh, afternoon."

They stepped into the crime scene, which was annoyingly a mess. Their victim was an attractive, tanned, golden haired woman in her late twenties, both her hair and skin seemed to have come from a bottle and, as Yelina informed them, her ID suggested she was from Washington. "Her name is Kym Garson, at least according to her driver's licence," Yelina explained, "and she was staying here with a Fiona Marshalls according to the desk, Frank is out trying to locate Marshalls now."

The young woman was lying crumpled on her side, half her skull was blow clean away and in her right hand she was clutching the offensive murder weapon.

"I know it looks like a suicide," Yelina admitted, "but I don't know, it's a little too obvious and just look at this mess, there was evidently a party going on here. Who has a party then shoots themselves immediately after?"

"Good question," Horatio murmured as he tugged off his shades and pocketed them.

It took them over two hours going through the scene, during that time other CSIs showed up to help process the scene and Alexx came to inspect the body. The dark skinned examiner pointed out the bruises on the woman's right wrist and hand, before death she noted coolly, and an odour of urine about her. It was Calleigh who found minute traces of white dust at the edges of the back of the toilet along with a shred of plastic, heroin or cocaine, they wouldn't know for sure until the evidence came back.

At first they thought the chaotic look of the room along with opened wine bottles, abandoned glasses and tins of beer suggested a wild party but the more they inspected the scene the more Horatio began to suspect something else. He pointed out how one glass was still almost full, there were only two tins in the trash, the phone was off the hook and there was still alcohol in the mini fridge. The destruction, he thought, hinted more at someone hunting for something rather than partying with perhaps an attempt to stage the look of a party.

Finally, they called it a day and left the scene to return to Miami-Dade and process the evidence. Horatio let Calleigh walk on ahead, his cerulean gaze locking with Yelina's warm, chocolate brown gaze as she folded her slender arms and looked at him expectantly. "It's been a while," she murmured.

The redhead nodded calmly. "Longer than intended," he admitted, "how's Ray Junior doing?"

"Good, what about Speed?"

"Back at work, he seems fine but our suspect still being unidentified and on the loose probably isn't helping," the redhead confessed wearily.

"And Ridley?" Yelina's voice was calm, innocent even but her gaze had turned sharp prompting Horatio to wonder if the New Yorker was always going to be a sore spot between them. Yelina knew Horatio well enough to know he was hiding something with regards to Ridley but she just could not figure out what and seemed determined to jump to the wrong conclusion.

"She's well," Horatio retorted evenly, "better now that Speed is."

"Mmm well that's all good to hear, and what about this case of yours? Any progress?"

"No," he confessed reluctantly. "The circus is gone now so it's entirely possible our killer has gone with it, if he ever was a part of it. At any rate, Ridley's working on it nonstop, which does concern me a little," he admitted with a slight frown.

"Why?" Yelina pried trying to keep the hardness from her voice. There he was getting worked up about Ridley again like she was special compared to the others, he didn't seem so bothered when Calleigh and Eric put in the overtime and his concerns over their relationship was fleeting at best whilst it was clear he did not know whether to approve of Speed and Ridley or not.

"This happened with Detective Silver and then again with Ruby, when the killer got personal Ridley almost burnt herself out trying to stop him, I don't need her exhausting herself over this because he got to Speed."

"Was it personal do you think?" Yelina pried with a softer look. "Could he have known you guys would be there?"

Horatio shook his head. "It was unofficial and I don't think he was seizing an opportunity when he shot Speed I think he panicked."

"Well that's something," Yelina pointed out with a slight smile, "it means he's not the pro he thinks he is if he can't keep calm and act natural at the mere sight of a cop. Look, just remind Ridley it's not personal this time, I understand the timing of things is a little coincidental and I've noticed, just like everyone else, that her name and face has been all over the papers lately linked up to all this but just advise her to distance herself from it, treat it like any other case because that's all it is."

Horatio gave a nod of gratitude. "I will Yelina, thanks. By the way, do you think you and Ray Junior would be free for lunch sometime this week? It really has been too long."

Yelina relaxed her stance slightly, and her gaze brightened as she considered the offer. "Sure," she said at last, "let's aim for Wednesday if it suits, I'm off then."

"It will suit," Horatio retorted as he gave her a warm smile. "Anyway, I'll see you then."

"See you then and take care Horatio."

"You too." He hastened out of the room and after Calleigh who was waiting by the lift doors texting Eric.

The blonde greeted Horatio with bright smile. "Listen Horatio, we had plans before Speed got shot to have a night out and anyway, we've rescheduled it to this Friday, would you like to come?"

The redhead mulled the idea over in his head. He was unsure how he felt about his team socialising, in many ways it was a positive thing but when you had two women and two men who obviously had feelings for each other well it did get complicated. He wanted them to be happy, of course he did, especially Ridley's as she sorely deserved a sliver of joy and love in her life, he just wasn't sure they were going to keep their happiness with one another. Yet he didn't want to be their chaperone or the fifth wheel who made things awkward. Maybe with Yelina there... 'Now isn't that hypocritical,' he thought wryly with a flicker of a smile. "I'll think about it," he gave in to Calleigh's eager smile.

* * *

It was coming up to seven when Horatio and Calleigh were finally able to meet with Eric, Tim and Ridley in the Miami-Dade headquarters. Eric and Tim, thanks to Alexx's findings, had concluded that their victim was the result of a robbery gone very wrong but the evidence as to their potential killer was scant and they were looking into similar cases.

Calleigh and Horatio had learned that Kym Garson's bruising was just on her right hand and wrist and enough to hint at someone possibly making her wield the gun. A further indication was Alexx's confirmation that the woman had at some point wet herself. The trace of drugs Calleigh had found was indeed heroin, though there was none in Kym's system and better still, Kym's ID was fake and now it seemed obvious that both she and roommate Fiona Marshalls had in fact been using aliases. The whole case stank and camera footage from the hotel showed a lot more to the dark tale. Four men wearing hoodies and caps, which kept their faces hidden, arriving up to the room at approximately three in the afternoon before leaving just twenty minutes later. The gunshot had been reported by a maid on the floor sometime in between. What they didn't know was Fiona Marshalls', or whoever she really was, role in the grim events.

The only one who was having any luck today was Ridley who entered Horatio's office at a quarter past seven with a tired smile clutching a pile of paper. Tim stood up and looked at her in surprise; he hadn't even known she was still at work. "I think I have a breakthrough," she announced proudly.

She placed the pages on Horatio's desk, separating them out showing several to have highlighted and underlined passages as well as notes scribbled by Ridley in black and red ink. There were photographs, newspapers and articles from the internet. "We kept looking for someone who disappeared in the Chimera House," Ridley murmured, "a family member or someone connected to one but it wasn't right."

"Go on," Horatio urged as he looked at the papers with interest.

"Twenty years ago the house had a different name, The Rabbit Hole, and it was the summer home of the Anderson family. They only went down to it during July and August, the rest of the year it stood dormant, that's what they thought anyway. There were a few families nearby, a very small community if you like who had children who had a fascination with the house. This house, 313 Thorndale Lane was just ten minutes away on foot and it belonged to the Rothdales." Ridley gestured down to a black and white photograph of a two storey wooden house with chipped walls, an old looking porch with a broken swing in it and a small front garden with weeds growing in it. "Charles and Wendy Rothdale lived here with their children Charles Junior and Lorina, it was the former summer home of Wendy's parents the Devereuxes after they bought it ten years prior. Charles Rothdale was a busy but unsuccessful businessman from England and more often than not his business took him out of state. Wendy, by all accounts, preferred to hire cheap babysitters when she could and socialise in the town, given this was the eighties I don't think people meant she had cakes and tea."

Eric let out a snicker at this, breaking the silent concentration of the CSIs and earning a look of annoyance from Calleigh.

"Anyway, this went on for a few years until Charles Junior was sixteen and Lorina was twenty-one, and their parents went through an awkward period of arguing. In the end, Charles Senior skipped the state, and his family, for business in North Carolina, apparently Wendy had a lover down here in the city and became inclined to simply abandon the children in the house and stay with him in the city. Lorina apparently had several boyfriends in the city and according to accounts of friends she was often seen there when she was supposedly at home minding her brother.

This was all around November, Charles Junior's birthday being the 26th, incidentally Alice's Adventures in Wonderland was first published on November 26th, 1865." Ridley paused to suck in a breath, giving the CSIs a quick moment to process her information so far. She pointed to the headline of the grainy newspaper cutting, it read- ROTHDALE GIRL STILL MISSING. "We know that Lorina went missing sometime around then, we don't know the exact date because for a couple of days her mother simply thought she was staying with a friend or boyfriend, which Lorina was inclined to do and then for a few more she said nothing because she was afraid of the scandal. She gives the date of Lorina's disappearance as November 30th but people think it was probably earlier than that. They say on Charles' sixteenth birthday his father had already abandoned the family and instead of pulling together for him, his mother and sister both headed into the city, leaving him alone for the entire day and night."

Ridley finally tugged out another printout, a faint, colour photograph of a young woman with bleached blonde hair, large, brown eyes, and a tanned face wearing a yellow sundress. "Lorina Rothdale," she explained, "pictured at about eighteen or nineteen years of age. She was never found, the police at the time concluded the case as unexplained, they had no major suspects and whilst they wrote that Charles Junior was indifferent to the matter they put that down to the problems in his family. The Rothdales home was searched and the father was located and questioned but in the end most people assumed she had run away."

"But you think Charles Junior put her in the attic of a neighbour's home," Tim surmised as he gave Ridley an impressed look.

"The Rothdales' home is long gone, it burnt down about ten years ago, Mr Rothdale is supposedly still in North Carolina though no one knows for sure and Mrs Rothdale died eight years ago from alcoholism, without DNA to test against our body we can't know for definite but I managed to get some accounts up about The Rabbit Hole at the time, the press ran a brief piece on it in the early eighties. When the Andersons named it there was a fear they would renovate it too but they described themselves as largely disinterested in the place, considering renovating it too much work and not worth it given the little time they spent in the place. There was one quote in there by Jill Anderson, then aged five, the journalist obviously stuck it in for humour but I think it could be more." Ridley gestured down to a clipping from 'Historic Homes in Miami' magazine, pointing at a passage she had highlighted.

" 'I don't like it here," Horatio read the quote aloud, "it's swampy, too hot and there's a dumb boy who keeps coming over with a smelly rabbit.'" He looked up at Ridley with a small smile. "Charles Junior?"

Ridley tugged out another photograph, this one was also in colour and faded and showed a younger looking Lorina, what could only be her parents and one boy, around ten or so, with short, dirty fair hair, his father's hazel eyes and tanned skin like his sister. In his arms he clutched a white, pink eyed rabbit.

Tim tensed at the image and leaned back from the photo, staring at the floor awkwardly as he suppressed a flashback of a black eyed rabbit mask.

"I know it's going on a lot," Ridley said in a serious voice, "but I really think this could be it."

"And where is Charles Junior now?" Horatio asked the all important question.

"Off the records since he turned eighteen, two years after his sister's death," Ridley confessed. "He left school and there's no trail after that, I don't know if he changed his name, left town or what, with the house burnt down and his mother dead there's no way to confirm yet."

"No other relatives?" Calleigh queried.

"Still looking," Ridley admitted, "none close anyway. I'm hoping someone will turn up so there's a chance at DNA however slim."

"Well Ridley I think you should run with this," Horatio decided, "it's the strongest lead we have so far."

"You've certainly had better success than us with our Ocean Avenue nonsense," Calleigh praised.

Ridley stood up and gave Calleigh an odd look. "Ocean...Avenue?" she queried in puzzlement.

The blonde nodded. "Ocean Avenue Palms Hotel, go figure," she grumbled, "we went to look into a suicide there but it's looking like a lot worse, murder, drugs and a girl still missing."

"Do you have an Ocean Avenue in Miami?" Ridley quipped curiously, still looking a surprise.

"No," Horatio retorted calmly.

"Wait a minute," Eric was quick to speak up as his eyes grew wide with excitement. He stepped up to Ridley and pointed at her almost accusingly. "Did you go there? Oh shit Ocean Avenue, that was in New York!"

"What are you talking about Delko?" Tim queried wearily. He still looked pale and there was a hint of unease in his brown eyes that he was trying hard to banish.

"112 Ocean Avenue," Eric answered excitedly, "come on guys, Amityville!"

"Wasn't that in the seventies?" Calleigh queried in confusion. "A bit before Ridley's time."

"Yes but I bet you've been there, haven't you?" Eric demanded.

Ridley sighed and shook her head with a teasing smile. "Second case," she confessed, "everyone thought it was hilarious giving it to me, it kind of started the whole thing of getting the more unusual cases."

"Wait you went to the house?" Calleigh queried in shock and she turned to Ridley quickly with wide, blue eyes. "The actual house?"

"Yes," Ridley confessed with a look of unease, "that is to say I went to a case on the same street and happened to pass the house."

"What kind of case?" Eric demanded with intrigue. "Is the whole neighbourhood cursed?"

Ridley pushed back a strand of her dark hair as she thought back to the case. "Mother and kids dead, it looked like a weird ritual killing, that's why it came our way, the pet dog...was hanging upside down on the ceiling at the top of the stairs it er...it made it look like the stairs were bleeding."

"Holy shit!" Eric exclaimed before he could help himself.

"Calm down Delko, no demons were involved," Tim chided as he frowned and looked appropriately unimpressed.

"Anyway, the father turned up at a bar, apparently none the wiser, had been late at work having an affair with his secretary. It took a while but we soon figured out he was behind the whole thing, a combination of an insurance scam, he had policies on every family member, wanting his wife out of the scene and simply being an evil, mad fuck. He thought with the whole Amityville Horror thing he'd somehow get away with all but sure it didn't work for that guy either, now they're both rotting in jail. I can assure you there was no voice telling us to get out, no flies and no Indian burial ground."

Eric frowned and grumbled, "that's the best bit you know and how can you be sure? Whole neighbourhood could be built on one?"

"Given that they used to dominate this country every town is probably built on one," Horatio commented with an amused look.

"Well that's...not comforting," Eric replied dryly. "On that note, next case you get called to Ridley I'm definitely coming, they are fascinating."

Tim rolled his eyes whilst Calleigh shook her head disapprovingly and Ridley gave a small smile. "Sure thing," she agreed.

* * *

 _Wow info overload! I'm mean I know, I keep dragging this out in ways, I kind of like having other CSI cases spliced in between since these guys obviously work more than one case at a time plus an excuse for character development! Hope you like this chapter and the fic so far! I couldn't resist the Amityville nod, two reasons- one the CSI NY episode Boo is what got me into CSI (true story) I have a morbid fascination with the Amityville story and I learnt about the episode Boo, watched it and loved it and just had to get more CSI and more and more lol, two- Ridley is from New York, I just had to do it!_

 _Anyway, for those of you who have been waiting patiently, I promise next chapter...TFIF!_


	12. Chapter 11- Miami Prom

Ridley looked at herself in the mirror with unease, biting at her lip slightly as she fiddled with her long, dark hair, which had been styled into loose curls. All she could see were scars, the faint, pink ones at her throat and the much fresher, still red ones down her bare right arm, and the ones on her exposed legs, yeah they were faint too and in certain lights barely there, probably wouldn't be noticeable with a tan but that was something Ridley wasn't giving into just yet. She liked her fair skin, it wasn't like it was unusually pale, downright normal back in New York in fact but here people acted like she was border lining on being a vampire, except Tim who commented teasingly that he had always liked Snow White best in the fairytales.

Her dress had been bought in New York, cut in a V shape at the chest, tight at the waist with a flared skirt that ended between her waist and knees, it was modest for Miami and yet despite how flattering it was Ridley just felt exposed in it. It had bows at her shoulders instead of sleeves and another bow at the back of the waist, all of the bows had mock ruby jewels at their centres framed in gold, and there was intricate detail on the front of the bodice suggesting roses. With it Ridley was wearing a pair of black court shoes with bows at the centre. She wanted her scarf but she knew it looked absurd with the dress and clashed. So instead she grabbed a black blazer, slung it on, buttoned it up and then tugged her hair over her right shoulder so that at least part of the scarring was concealed.

She was ready to change her outfit entirely when the doorbell rang. She turned from her mirror; a cheap and quick purchase after the last had been cracked, grabbed her black handbag and hastened to the door. She peered through the keyhole nervously before tugging the door open with the gold chain still on, it was how she always answered the door whether she was expecting someone or not. Seeing Calleigh she greeted her with a smile, tugged off the chain and opened the door fully.

"Ready?" the blonde quipped with a wide smile. As expected, the Southern belle looked beautiful, her hair was down in straight, pale gold waves, her eye shadow was dusky, her lips plump and pink and she was wearing a flattering pink, silk dress, low cut to show off her ample cleavage with two straps at the shoulders. It seemed to almost be layered with a tight band of pink silk at the waist and two folds below the chest. She was also wearing the dangling diamond earrings Ridley had gotten her for her birthday, and a pearl and crystal necklace that matched the earrings well. In one hand she held a pink satin and crystal clutch, though long and thin Ridley suspected Calleigh could and probably had fit a firearm into it.

"Ready," Ridley retorted with false confidence as she stepped out to the pleasantly warm October night and tugged her door shut behind her before turning to lock it tight. She then followed the taller blonde into the waiting taxi, sitting beside her on the worn leather seats and sharing a small smile. "I don't think I'm ever going to get used to the weather down here," Ridley murmured.

"Oh you will," Calleigh retorted happily, "hurricanes, thunderstorms without warning, unexpected heat waves, although we didn't get much of that this summer, and rain when you least expect it."

"Yeah it's the warm rain that bothers me," Ridley murmured, "I mean it's like God is peeing on you."

Calleigh burst into laughter at that analogy and the taxi driver gave an appreciative snort. A little bit more relaxed, Ridley and Calleigh continued their journey in good humour. Ridley appreciated Calleigh getting a taxi from her house all the way to Ridley's so she wouldn't have to get a lift alone, although she had pondered to herself why Tim hadn't offered to get a lift with her but then he and Eric had both made murmurings about working late together and going to the bar from work.

"So what kind of bar is this?" Ridley wondered curiously as the taxi entered the flashy neon lights of the centre city. "That we have to be dressed up for."

"Oh you go dressed up everywhere in Miami," the blonde retorted, "haven't you learned that? Club, bar, beach, you never know where you're going to end up so you always go prepared. Easier for guys though, no one seems to care much what they wear." She shook her head scornfully at this.

There was a moment of silence, save for the driver's idea of music, which seemed to be Latin swing, before Ridley spoke up quietly. "Hey Calleigh, how does Tim seem to you?"

Calleigh looked at her friend curiously with a gentle, pale blue gaze. "Alright, maybe slightly moodier than usual at times and tired but hey he did have a pretty bad incident, I mean he almost died. Why?"

Ridley shrugged. "I was just curious I mean we talk but we're both...in therapy, it's a little weird and I don't think he likes to share about that. Plus, I want to talk about it with him but...I keep having nightmares about him lying there bleeding only," her voice dropped another octave, "only it's different...it's the Suburban killer with those horrible violet eyes standing there with the gun." She shuddered as she suppressed the memory of the dream. "I feel like I'm being selfish, too caught in my own issues to properly notice his, and mine were so long ago."

"Yours were terrible," Calleigh retorted sympathetically, "and many." She gave her friend a faint, consoling smile. "And you're not being selfish Ridley it must be very difficult, for both of you, trying to deal with your own issues and now each other's but you are both trying and that's good and important. Look, I'm keeping an eye on Tim, so are Eric and Alexx and Horatio, so don't worry plus he's surprisingly better at attending therapy than you."

Ridley winced slightly at Calleigh's look of disapproval. After two weeks off and Horatio's lecture followed by Tim's, Ridley had returned reluctantly to Dr. Young's scorn. Of course the psychiatrist had been worse than ever and continued to be so, prompting Ridley into several states of anger and depression all at once as she laid on the guilt thickly and suggested that associating with Tim would only hinder his recovery. Ridley had admitted that one to Tim quietly, resulting in several curse words and threats aimed at Dr. Young before Ridley had calmed enough to assure him that she only cared about it if he agreed with it, which of course he did not. So Ridley continued to see Dr. Young but in the past couple of weeks she had managed to storm off from three sessions and miss two. Horatio had offered to bring in another psychiatrist but Ridley had grumbled that it would probably be a lot worse having to begin her sordid tale again with yet another stranger.

"We're here," the taxi driver announced.

Calleigh and Ridley divided up the fare and tip before hastening out onto the concrete pavement. As always it was a busy night with pedestrians and traffic galore. There were party goers and clubbers of all ages, promoters for bars and clubs desperate to bring in the autumn business now that they were officially out of season, people out for late meals, the cinema or simply just out going about their business. Ridley liked it, New York had never slept either and it was always comforting to know that no matter the hour people were awake just like her. She breathed in the sea air with a pleasant sigh, it was another thing she didn't think she would ever get used to. They walked along the pavement for a few minutes bathed in the golden glow of streetlamps and the neon lights of clubs and hotels alike as they walked between the beach and the road, nature and civilisation in a strange sort of harmony.

"There it is, The Beach Hut, it's new, well new this year," Calleigh explained as she pointed to a lively establishment on the beach. It was a large, wide, wooden building with a straw roof sitting on a stone foundation with a wooden decking beside it that was surprisingly spacious with an off white awning hanging above it. There were numerous off-white canopies sheltering wooden benches and some comfortable looking square, wooden chairs with plump, white cushioned bases and backs, and round, wooden tables between them. There were several palm trees with neon coloured rings on them- red, blue, green, pink, purple and orange, it varied from tree to tree. As they grew closer they became aware as to how busy it was as laughter, chatter and music called out from it, Ridley's eyes also widened a little as she realised the wooden decking was actually a dance floor complete with a DJ.

"Um so bar," Ridley murmured dryly as they saw the small, wonky, wooden fencing indicating the territory of the place and the wooden steps leading up to the main building. At the main door two tall, fake, flickering flames greeted them and in front of them was the expected, six feet something, all muscle bouncer. The sign 'The Beach Hut' was in green neon with a yellow barked and green leafed palm tree on either side. Calleigh rolled her eyes at the clichéd image whilst Ridley smiled, still new enough to Miami to enjoy the palm imagery that seemed to be everywhere.

"Club like bar," Calleigh offered with a slightly wider smile as she scanned the numerous people. She flashed her bright smile at the bouncer before they headed into the club itself.

It was much bigger than expected with a crowded bar lit up by rippling, blue lights probably meant to mimic water, several booths with plush tops and cushions for decor and comfort, a few tables with two chairs to them, doors indicating toilets and another dance floor to the right in a pit with its own DJ and a sign promising a foam party later. The dance floor's current occupants played with several blown up beach balls and an inflatable dolphin and crocodile.

The club seemed to have a combination of nautical and pirate for its theme with ship wheels decorating the bottom of the bar, a skull and crossbones flag hanging at the back below the bottles, parrot teddies and pirate statues sitting in the walls, which also had thick netting draped over them, dried starfish and sea horses hung on them, and a collection of pirate hats.

As Ridley took in the club goers she realised that even without her blazer she would probably still count as covered up. Most women had opted for bras, bralets, bikini tops, hot pants, shorts and miniskirts, and those wearing dresses wore ones that were skin tight, had numerous slits, were see through and sometimes all three at once.

Calleigh led the way to the bar. It didn't take long for the blonde to make her way through as men seemed to part for her with little difficulty. After she and Ridley both turned down several offers of free drinks, they were finally able to order a couple of cocktails.

After close to half an hour had trickled by Ridley and Calleigh found themselves moving on to their third cocktails. They had gossiped about everything from work to clothes to shopping and whether Horatio was into a certain ringmaster or Yelina more. Ridley had finally surrendered her blazer to the club's closet at Calleigh's persuasion and though she kept tugging her hair over her shoulder every two minutes and kept crossing her legs and folding her arms she did feel strangely better about it.

After another ten minutes Calleigh got a text message on her phone that prompted her to smile widely before she dragged Ridley to the bar, got them another couple of cocktails and then led the way outside, one hand clutching the stem of a Cosmopolitan tightly whilst the other swung Ridley's left hand to and fro as they laughed.

"You're late!" the blonde cried out cheerfully to the two men who looked at them dubiously before they shared an amused glance.

Ridley looked at them in surprise, she was certain it was Eric and Tim and yet...well they weren't dressed quite like Eric and Tim. They looked fancy almost, not too fancy of course, she suspected Tim was incapable of that, but definitely better than usual; Tim was even wearing trousers instead of his usual jeans. Eric wore a flattering blue and green checked, short sleeved shirt, stylish, designer looking jeans and polished, brown shoes whilst Tim wore dark grey trousers and a soft, cotton, black shirt with gold buttons that was fitted with no room for a t-shirt underneath unlike his usual shirts. He looked decidedly uncomfortable and unlike Eric had not bothered to shave, or style his hair.

"What's the occasion?" Ridley queried in bafflement as she stumbled slightly when her heels met sand prompting Calleigh to let out a peal of laughter.

"Whatever one you girls already started celebrating," Tim answered sardonically.

Eric rushed to Calleigh's side, offering his hand to her with a small smile. "Can I escort you to a table?" he queried teasingly with a grin.

"Certainly," Calleigh answered merrily as she broke from Ridley to take Eric's waiting hand. "You guys should have come sooner," she scolded, "Ridley and I have had to pay for our own drinks."

Eric laughed at that and shook his head. "Calleigh you both look stunning tonight I refuse to believe no one's offered to buy either of you a drink."

"Oh they have," she retorted airily even as her cheeks darkened, "but we had to turn them down, told them we already had guys to buy for us."

"Was it pay day?" Tim queried mockingly, earning a glower from Calleigh. "I'm joking," he said dryly." He looked at the New Yorker with a small smile and held out a hand to her.

Ridley accepted it with her own embarrassed smile and allowed Tim to guide her after Eric and Calleigh to a table with two chairs opposite each other, both wide enough for two. They were made of sticks with cream cushions and had a round, wooden table between them with a candle burning in a blue glass holder in the centre. Calleigh and Ridley sat opposite each other and placed their cocktails onto the table.

"Sit tight while Speed and I get ourselves some drinks," Eric said with a grin before he hastened to the main building with Tim.

Once they were gone Ridley gave the blonde a quizzical look. "What's going on?" she demanded.

"What do you mean?" the blonde quipped with a coy smile before she sipped at her drink.

"This is a club not a bar and those two did not come from work," Ridley answered as her stare turned suspicious.

Calleigh shrugged as her smile widened. "I don't know about that but they look well for a change, Eric looks handsome." Her cheeks blushed a flattering dusky crimson as she bowed her head slightly and took another deep sip from her glass.

Ridley smiled this time. "You and him would certainly make an attractive couple," she teased. She took a deep gulp from her own glass and then remarked quietly, "I always wondered why you hadn't...well hadn't gotten together. I mean at Christmas I thought..."

"Me too," Calleigh confessed wistfully as she pushed back a strand of her long hair, "and we did for a while but...well it just didn't work out at the time but I would like it to Ridley, I really care about him."

Ridley nodded in agreement as she continued to fidget with her hair, still conscious of her scars despite the growing influence of alcohol.

The men finally rejoined them, Eric sitting beside Calleigh though he appeared shy about doing so and kept a small gap between them, and Tim sitting beside Ridley. Tim turned and looked at Ridley, locking eyes with her as if they were completely alone. "You look beautiful tonight you know," he said quietly with a hint of embarrassment in his voice.

Ridley smiled back even as her right hand jerked up to her throat instinctively and she seemed to clutch at it as if she could hide the scars with her fingers. "Thank you," she murmured, "you too er..." She faltered as her cheeks burned red and she bowed her head as Tim let out a snicker. "I mean you look...good," she finished lamely.

"Beats dishevelled," he retorted humorously.

Time seemed to flow by them with ease; they talked openly amongst each other sharing fun stories, and joking around with each other as they shared drinks. Noticing Ridley's endless unease over her throat, prompted Tim to quip, "which colour do you prefer- red, orange, blue or purple?"

Ridley looked at him in confusion. "Why?"

"Just pick," he urged.

"Is it a game?" Calleigh pried with a smile before she turned to Eric. "Do you get it?"

Eric shook his head helplessly before finishing off his pint.

"Purple," Ridley decided at last.

Tim hastened from his seat and they all watched curiously as he headed over to one of the palm trees, specifically one with purple glow rings encircling it. He unfastened one hastily and returned to Ridley, holding it up and out to her expectantly. "It's not a necklace but it's close enough, right?"

"Aww," Calleigh exclaimed as she clapped her hands together and looked over at them in awe, "that's so cute Speed."

Tim frowned slightly at the blonde's exclamation though he continued to hold Ridley's gaze, looking at her hopefully.

"Thank you," Ridley murmured softly as she leaned forward and allowed him to put it on, resisting the urge to flinch as his fingertips brushed against her skin.

"You don't need it you know," Tim insisted, "I told you, you look beautiful."

"I...thanks anyway," Ridley retorted awkwardly.

The boys headed back in for more drinks and when they returned Calleigh was quick to lean against Eric with a smile.

Tim fidgeted with something in his trouser pocket before plucking out a fake yellow flower he had snatched up from one of the tables inside. He looked at Ridley again and reached for her right wrist gently, holding it up before he brought the stem of the flower towards it and started twisting it around. "It's not a great corsage but it's better than none," he murmured as he knotted it on clumsily.

"Um...what?" Ridley blinked at it and then him in confusion.

Tim flashed her a small smile. "You said you wanted to get dressed up for that one special dance with a cute guy and lights and ribbons," he reminded her almost teasingly. "Well you're dressed up with ribbons, there are lights, I think I qualify as a cute guy and...well..." He stood up and held out one hand to her. He was obviously struggling to hide his unease but he managed it admirably despite Calleigh's squeals and giggles of approval. "It's an alright song isn't it?" Tim muttered uncomfortably.

"You remembered," Ridley retorted, almost in a whisper as she stared up at him in disbelief.

"We all did," Tim murmured.

"It sucked that you didn't get to go to prom," Eric chirped up, "and this isn't prom but it's better because you actually like your date." He turned to Calleigh with a smile, tensing in surprise when she gave him a sudden, brief kiss before pulling back with a teasing grin.

"You know if you don't take my hand soon I'm going to get a complex," Tim grumbled.

Ridley giggled before taking his hand at last and allowing him to pull her to a secluded part on the beach that was still close enough to be under the warm glow of the lights and for the music to be audible.

Horatio and Yelina arrived at the edge of the club close to half an hour later. The brunette spotted the silhouettes indicating two people in a close embrace at the edge of the club's territory on the sand and looked to them curiously. As they got closer the redhead gave a flicker of a smile as he realised who the pair were. Tim and Ridley, oblivious to everyone else, were sharing a deep kiss.

"Horatio!" Calleigh called out happily as she gave him a bright smile from her vantage point on the wooden decking dance floor.

Eric's eyes went wide as he looked past Calleigh in disbelief before drawing back slightly as a wash of embarrassment swept over him. He managed to take in enough to see that Yelina looked stunning in a glittering, flattering dress of silver sequins.

The blonde was quick to grab Eric's hand, tugging him from the decking, through the main club and down to Horatio and Yelina. Horatio almost looked like he was dressed for work minus the badge, blazer, gun and shades, though Eric suspected the gun was probably somewhere just not visible. The redhead was wearing a pale blue shirt, grey trousers and black shoes and despite standing close to Yelina it was obvious they were trying to appear as 'just friends'.

"I'm so glad you made it!" Calleigh cried out in delight. She turned looking for Ridley and Tim before spying them in a close embrace. "Um...well Tim and Ridley are here but we could probably get some drinks without them." She turned to Yelina with a friendly smile. "I love your dress."

"Thank you, you look lovely Calleigh," Yelina retorted merrily.

It was another ten minutes before Ridley and Tim rejoined the others hand in hand, both with a look of astonishment when they spotted Horatio and Yelina.

"Is that...a corsage?" Yelina queried in puzzlement as she looked at the yellow flower on Ridley's wrist.

"Something like that," the New Yorker retorted with a small smile.

"It's a special Miami prom," Calleigh commented with conspiratorial look.

Horatio gave a small smile at that as he realised what his co-workers were trying to do for Ridley.

"You're looking well Speedle," Yelina remarked brightly, "I'm glad to see you're back on your feet."

"Um...yeah," Tim answered awkwardly as he paled just a little. "Thanks."

"Too bad they're both left feet," Eric was quick to jest, "Speed you are the worst dancer." He hastened towards Ridley and held out a hand. "Come on Ridley this is your prom night you deserve at least one good dance."

Ridley accepted Eric's hand with a giggle and allowed him to hasten her to the edge of the chairs and spin her about across the sand to a lively song.

The night continued pleasantly, Calleigh and Ridley shared many dances on the wooden decking and across the sand, enticing Yelina up for a few with them. Horatio refused any offers to dance, instead keeping Tim company when Eric was dragged up by Calleigh to join her, Yelina and Ridley. The redhead could see that Tim was in a lot of pain despite his best efforts to hide it, he was slumped slightly against his seat, tense, and his breaths were laboured and forced.

"This was a nice idea," Horatio commented amicably to the traces expert.

Tim nodded back from his position opposite his superior. "It was Delko's," he confessed.

Horatio nodded. "It's nice to see Ridley having fun."

"Yeah, it is," Tim agreed sincerely. He followed Horatio's gaze to the wooden decking where the others danced. "I know you don't approve of us H but I'm not letting go of her again, it feels right with her. I just hope I can protect her when it counts." He winced slightly as a fresh pang burned through his chest, ever a reminder of his vulnerability.

"You can Speed," Horatio assured.

The evening drew to an end just after one in the morning when thick, heavy rainclouds began to appear overhead. Horatio and Yelina slipped away discreetly with a brief farewell to the team who headed for a stroll along the beach, Calleigh and Ridley with their shoes in their hands as they dared each other to dip their toes in the sea.

"It's freezing!" Ridley shrieked between laughs as she ran in up to her ankles and shuddered as a small wave broke and the water rippled through her toes.

"It's wonderful!" Calleigh enthused as she dared to go a couple of inches further in.

"It's wet," Tim remarked dryly as he shook his head at the pair. "Come on, it's going to rain in a minute."

As if on cue there was a low rumble from above. Ridley's eyes widened a little as she scurried out of the ocean again. "Not another fricking storm," she grumbled.

"They're fun to watch," the blonde chirped.

"Yeah from indoors," Eric was quick to add. "Let's get a taxi."

They hastened back off the beach and to a taxi depot. Afraid of Calleigh suggesting going home Eric was swift to point out that Speed's house was closest. He looked pleadingly at his friend when he got a brown eyed look of disapproval. Tim relented when another rumble sounded from above and he saw Ridley whiten just a little.

It took just twenty minutes to reach Tim's house and when they did the storm was in full swing. They raced through pelting rain to the door, Eric cursing at Tim as he fumbled for his keys whilst Calleigh 'oooed' at the lightning and Ridley seemed to go noticeably quiet and shrink against the wall. Once they were inside Tim was quick to flick on the lights and mutter to everyone to make themselves at home, alluding to the spare bedroom and the couch.

Eric pounced for the television remote, flicking through channels until he found a comedy film to play in the background whilst Calleigh commented condescendingly about the state of the place. The blonde's blue eyes widened when she spied the half-crinkled photograph of Ridley and was quick to snatch it up. "Now this is cute," she enthused before she flashed to Eric and Ridley.

Eric looked at it in puzzlement, knowing he had seen it before though he couldn't remember where. His brown eyes seemed to spark with a dark recognition prompting Tim to shake his head warningly.

Ridley merely blushed with a half-smile before dismissing herself to the bathroom. Calleigh and Eric seated themselves close together on Tim's couch, Calleigh with one hand on Eric's leg as she leaned against him and feigned interest in the television. The truth was neither of them wanted to go home yet because it meant leaving the other. Tim frowned and shook his head chidingly as he watched the pair exchange small glances and smiles before Eric finally found the courage to give the blonde another kiss. It wasn't that Tim disapproved, he was definitely all for Calleigh and Eric, it was more he didn't quite appreciate it on his couch at half two in the morning.

Tim soon noticed that Ridley had spent an inordinate amount of time at the toilet and headed off quietly to look for her. Eric and Calleigh were oblivious to either one's absence.

Tim halted in the corridor when he spotted Ridley there, frozen as she stared through the open doorway of Tim's spare room. He sighed quietly before tugging his hands out of his pockets and walking on as he wondered how long she had been standing there. "Ridley?"

She turned to him sharply with the wide eyes of a startled deer before looking confused and then just uneasy. "Sorry," she murmured quietly. "I just...it was right here." She only just managed to suppress a shudder.

"I know," Tim retorted softly, "and I think about it all the time, my gun lying there, completely useless."

Ridley shook her head. "He was like a shadow...Dr. Young says he was just a man but God Tim he wasn't, he wasn't!"

Tim stepped forward and embraced her lightly with one arm, drawing her close against his warm torso. "Hey, come on now, he's dead, don't let him ruin anymore of your life."

She sniffled as she nodded against him. "I can't stay here."

"You don't have to," Tim assured, "although I'd like it...we can stay in the living room if you'd like."

Ridley swallowed hard as she debated the issue, tensing as another flash of lightning illuminated the dark windows. She knew she didn't want to go home, not just because she would be alone in a storm but because she simply did not want to leave, tonight had been fantastic and she didn't want it to end and she didn't want to leave Tim. "Maybe later," she said reluctantly, not wanting Calleigh or Eric to see her distraught state. "Could...could we sit in your room for a bit?"

He drew back from her and gave her brow a brief kiss. "Of course," he replied warmly.

They headed to Tim's bedroom, which was as messy as ever though the bed thankfully looked clean at least. Ridley glanced about the room, smiling at the alarm clock she had gifted him before looking at his pile of wrinkled clothes for the wash. Tim opened his wardrobe and tugged out his ever familiar black shirt and offered it out to Ridley. "It'll be more comfortable than a dress," he said.

Ridley accepted it with a look of gratitude and a nod. Tim hastened to the bathroom and then back to the living room. He stood in the doorway, looking in curiously, and smiled seeing Eric and Calleigh kissing gently as they sat in a close embrace. He turned from them without a word and returned to his room, assured that neither his absence nor Ridley's would be noted.

Ridley was now on the bed wearing only Tim's black shirt and her underwear, hugging her scarred legs close and looking about the room nervously. Tim kicked off his shoes and took a seat beside her, stretching his legs out in front of him. He looked at her expectantly, wanting her to lean against him but she didn't, prompting him to frown a little. When a rumble sounded close outside he seized his chance and quipped teasingly, "can I protect you from the storm?" He parted his arms and looked at her suggestively.

Ridley gave him a faint smile before leaning against his chest tentatively, so light he could barely feel her. "I don't want to hurt you," she confessed, "you must be in pain."

He was, in fact it felt like his chest was slowly being crushed and it was all he could do not to scream in pain. All because he had wavered the painkillers today for fear of being groggy. "It's fine," he assured as he pulled her close with one hand.

Ridley slipped her arms about his waist, pulling herself closer and snuggling into his warmth. "God I missed you," she confessed.

"I missed you too," Tim assured as he leaned back against the pillow and shut his eyes.


	13. Chapter 13- Love and Drugs

_Dead violet eyes locked onto her freezing her with fear. It was dark, everything was thick with darkness and yet she could see those eyes. She knew she had to snap out of it, had to unfreeze and act or Horatio would force her on leave again. He was cloaked in the darkness, a shadow looming out to get her. 'Just a person,' she told herself firmly, 'just a person.'_

 _She reached for her gun, drew it sharply and took aim. Instead of a bang it clicked as it stalled. Ridley looked at it in horror before a scream erupted out of her as he hit her hard and she fell to floor. Limp and vulnerable, she was stunned, she couldn't move._

" _Scream for them Ridley, scream for Lieutenant Caine and the photographer. He's next, he'll scream worse than Justin."_

 _Ridley obeyed when his cold hands reached down to violate her._

" _He raped her so hard he broke her pelvis Calleigh," that was Tim's voice, somewhere in the distance she could barely hear him, "he tore off her nails one by one and flayed her skin, and all that before he buried her alive to suffocate or bleed to death, and you don't want to know where the sick fuck put that calling card of his."_

 _Oh God, she could taste vomit, he was talking about her, through a haze she could hear him and Calleigh discussing her 'case'._

 _She screamed again._

"Ridley! Ridley it's okay, it's just a nightmare!" Tim fumbled for his lamp, flicking it on as the young woman thrashed and shrieked beside him. He reached out to her, shaking her again, and leaning back when her eyes snapped open.

She bolted upright and looked about the room in alarm before reaching for a gun that wasn't there. "He's coming! He's coming!"

"He's not Ridley," Tim assured as he reached out a hand towards her gently.

When footsteps sounded up the corridor and the door was knocked Ridley screamed again as her heart leapt into her throat.

"Are you alright?" Calleigh called through the door worriedly.

"Shit," Tim cursed as he reached out to Ridley again. She jumped when his hand grasped her right arm and looked at him fearfully. "Ridley you're safe, I swear," he told her seriously, "it's just Calleigh at the door, she, Eric, you and me are the only ones in this house, remember?"

Ridley trembled as she looked confused for a moment before shaking her head helplessly as the tears started to trickle down her face. "I remember the hospital," she choked out, "I...I wasn't awake but I...I was aware...there was something cold, it hurt, all this poking...God you and Calleigh saw it all, every detail... He...He did awful things to me..."

Tim pulled her close against him as she dissolved into sobs. "I know Ridley," he said quietly as he rested his chin on her head and stroked her hair tenderly with one hand. "He did but he is dead now, Horatio made damn sure of that, I saw it with my own eyes, he is never going to hurt you again."

As Ridley's sobs grew louder Calleigh knocked the door again. "Guys what's wrong?" she queried worriedly.

Tim sighed, he knew Ridley wouldn't want Calleigh and Eric seeing her but they had heard her screams and could hear her sobs, they could probably take a good guess at her appearance and the cause for it. "Ridley had a nightmare, but it's okay Calleigh," he called out. His frown deepened when Ridley tensed against him. "I know it's not okay," he murmured to her, "but you have done so well so far, please don't let this guy win. He took enough from you as it is, don't let him have your life too Ridley."

Calleigh accepted Tim's answer though a part of her wanted to go into the room anyway. Afraid of embarrassing Ridley she returned to the living room.

Tim repositioned Ridley gently, turning her sideways against him. "Come on now," he said gently, "bump, bump, it means you're safe, remember?"

Ridley almost smiled as she nodded against him. There it was, that now familiar sound of Tim's calm heartbeats. "Safe," she murmured wearily.

"Yep." Tim waited patiently for Ridley to nod back to sleep against him before he leaned back against his pillow and attempted to fall back to sleep himself.

When Ridley next woke it was more peacefully and at a more respectable hour of the morning. She could still hear the rhythmic steady beats of Tim's heart and found herself comfortable but stiff. She pulled back quickly as she realised if she felt stiff Tim was probably in agony.

He awoke with Ridley's sudden movement and looked at her questioningly.

"Sorry," she murmured, "I thought you might be sore with me having slept on you all night."

He was, in fact he was getting a little desperate for his painkillers now but he shook his head anyway. "I'm fine," he assured as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He reached out to her with one hand and stroked her mussed hair gently.

Ridley held his gaze wordlessly and gave a faint smile. She moved forward slowly, cocked her head slightly and pressed her lips against his. Warm and gentle, it was enough to arouse and yet Tim restrained himself, gripping her waist tenderly with both hands and pulling her closer.

Her hands slid down his bare chest teasingly before resting at the edge of his boxers. When she tugged at them he moved to accommodate her, daring to shift his own fingertips up and under his black shirt against her warm bare skin. He pulled back from the kiss, tugged his hands out and looked at her hopefully. "Can I have my shirt back?" he queried dryly.

Ridley's smile widened as she reached up to unbutton it. Tim let her do it, knowing it was easier if she was in control but once she opened the last button he couldn't resist leaning forward to slide it off her shoulders. She shuddered slightly as he kissed at the scars on her throat whilst his hands roved up her body, stroking circles about the scar on her stomach softly before climbing higher. A gasp escaped her prompting Tim to give a satisfied grin as he pulled back slightly to reposition himself better.

His chest threatened to burst in agony but it was worth it, damnit it was worth the pain. When it ended with several more grunts and gasps of satisfaction Tim felt a tingling warmth rush over him and knew that what he had been missing with Serena was returned.

Ridley, sweat soaked and panting, leaned up against him once more, nestling into his chest, her eyes widening slightly at the frantic beats of his heart. She closed her eyes as he wrapped one arm about her waist loosely and leaned back against the headboard of the bed.

* * *

It was around two in the afternoon and Ridley was in the city helping herself to a late lunch. She stood at a kiosk in the mall admiring the Halloween decorations on display in the shop windows whilst she waited for her bagel. She could imagine the jokes Tim would make if he knew what she was ordering, the merciless teasing about being unable to take New York out of the detective. He was currently at therapy, and then he would be in the lab. Ridley was due there at four to share a late shift with Calleigh going over her recent case with Horatio.

Ridley frowned as her stomach gave an unpleasant gurgle, she hadn't eaten anything yet, barely keeping down the coffee she had taken at Tim's and was curious as to how everyone else was holding up. Tim had offered her some fast food burgers for breakfast but Ridley had turned pale at the mere thought and rejected the offer.

"Excuse me."

Ridley turned at the nervous voice and tugged down her rainbow tinted shades to look at the woman curiously. "Yes?" she quipped calmly.

Slim, brunette, somewhere in her twenties and most definitely uneasy with frightened blue eyes that darted about warily. "You're...you're a detective aren't you?" she quipped quietly as she leaned forward.

Ridley leaned back instinctively even as she nodded warily.

"I..I saw you in the papers," the young woman admitted. "Look I need help; please they're going to kill me." She glanced over her right shoulder and turned to Ridley sharply. "Shit they're here! Oh God you have to help me!" She clutched at Ridley's arm suddenly with a desperate look in her eyes.

"Hold on a minute, who's going to kill you? Who are you?"

"Look my friend's already dead! They murdered her, God it was awful it was on the news this morning. Oh shit, we have to go, please God!" She started to move and attempted to drag Ridley with her.

BANG!

Ridley's eyes went wide as she felt the bullet whizzing past her left side. The mall erupted into chaos instantly as people screamed in alarm and started to run blindly for cover. Ridley felt the woman's hand begin to slip away and instinctively tightened her grasp. Unfortunately it was Ridley's right hand the woman had grabbed, her gun hand. "Who the hell are you?" Ridley snapped.

"Emily," came the babbled retort, "but..." She shrieked as another gun fired and started to run harder.

Ridley struggled to maintain pace as they dodged right and left awkwardly to avoid the panicking crowds. "Emily you're running blindly! Look, let me lead!" Ridley snapped in frustration as she feared an innocent bystander getting gunned down in the chaos.

The woman glanced at the detective doubtfully and ignored her, releasing her hand and heading for the stairs.

"Fuck!" Ridley cursed as she tugged out her gun and hurried after the young woman.

Everyone seemed to stampede up the stairs and the escalators as the gunfire herded them in that direction. Ridley cursed as she reached the second floor and a boutique shop's window immediately exploded into a thousand shards as a bullet whizzed through it.

The detective started to sprint, weaving left and right sharply to avoid people all while keeping the awkward Emily in her sights, the woman didn't even have the wit to zigzag, instead she ran mostly in a straight line making an easy target. Emily bolted into a large discount store, prompting Ridley to curse again; she was leading them towards innocent people!

Emily let out a shriek when Ridley grabbed her right hand sharply and tugged her to one side. Ridley mimed a 'shush' motion with one finger and a stern look as she dragged Emily down and into a ring of clothes.

BANG!

Emily's scream was only just silenced by Ridley's hand as a man hit the floor in a twitching bloody mess as a bullet imploded in his skull. Ridley swallowed hard as she pointed to the left and urged Emily to start crawling fast.

Forward across the cold, stained, grey floor to cower within a rack of men's trousers. Ridley followed after her, eyes darting about all the time as she tried to work out where the emergency exits were. They weren't alone as numerous shoppers hit the floor in a flurry of screams, pleads, prayers and curses. Ridley watched as numerous shoes clattered by her vision, all while she tried to spot the only feet that weren't running. 'Who the hell are these guys?' she wondered as she swallowed down her nerves. 'Fuck they don't seem to care who they shoot!'

Time seemed to pass by slowly as Ridley wondered where in the hell the police were, surely they had been called now. The crowds had thinned as most made it out the doors abandoning those who were too slow or simply too afraid to flee. Ridley aimed her gun carefully as she waited. There they were, polished black Forzieris, designer Italian shoes moving slowly as if with a purpose.

Emily let out a whimper prompting Ridley to act fast. BANG! Her Colt kicked back slightly as a bullet shot out of it and embedded itself in an ankle. Ridley did a U-turn on the floor, dragging Emily with her before she pulled her from their cover, moving quickly across the floor.

BANG! BANG!

A hail of gunfire seemed to surround the women, cutting through mannequins, paintings, cushions, teddies and ornaments all while people screamed and shrieked in horror. Emily let out a gasp as they almost stumbled over a cowering young boy.

"Under that shelf now!" Ridley barked at him sharply before she dragged Emily down an aisle of art materials.

BANG!

Paint spilled onto the floor and Ridley almost skidded on it with a curse. She made out a blur of faces as she fired back. Swarthy skinned, dark eyed, all muscle and dressed in leather, she thought they might be Cuban or Spanish. BANG! She hit one in the chest and her own heart almost stilled as she had a brief flashback of Tim falling back in a similar manner with blood blooming from him. 'Not now!' she ordered herself as she jerked Emily to the right, just in time to avoid the returned bullet.

Past the bed linen and down to the ground again, under shelves of bathroom utensils.

"I'm going to be sick," Emily gasped as she let out a retching noise.

"Why are they after you?" Ridley demanded as she led the way on, the emergency exit wasn't far.

"Drugs," Emily stammered, "we...we didn't know they were cartel."

"Fuck."

"They killed her in our hotel."

Ridley's eyes widened as she suddenly realised what Emily was talking about. "Fiona Marshalls," she grumbled.

"Yes," Emily said guiltily with a horrified look, "that..it was a fake ID."

Ridley shook her head.

BANG! Just to Ridley's right. She spied three men as she returned fire even as she snapped. "Go! Go! Go!"

It seemed to go on for ages, Ridley and Emily moved through the labyrinth of products never staying hidden for more than a minute, it was almost like they were being toyed with. Three more innocents were shot, flesh wounds Ridley hoped, as she calculated that there were at least four men armed in the store. She debated over what to do as she dragged Emily under a roll of carpets.

"You're going to hide," Ridley ordered her quietly, "behind those rugs over there." She gestured to the rugs hanging opposite them in a square. "Not a sound, not a movement. I'm going to lead them out of here. When they are gone you ask for Horatio Caine. Horatio Caine," she repeated the name slower and firmly.

"No," Emily began a protest but Ridley clamped a hand over her mouth tightly and shook her head.

"Do what I say. In five seconds I'm going to roll out of here and fire shots, you move then and hide." She reloaded her gun, counted the five seconds in her head, released Emily and rolled out from under the carpets.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Ridley fired hard, catching one in the shoulder and one in his left hand before she ran to the other side of the carpets out of their sight and fled out the emergency exit, taking care to open and slam the door twice for effect. She knew it was a huge and stupid risk but she didn't think she could keep running with Emily and keep her safe. She just had to hope they would fall for the rouse.

Down the concrete stairs, she felt an odd relief when she heard footsteps and shouts just above and behind her. 'Keeping going,' she urged herself, 'they can't see you yet.' Her right arm was aching, she was covered in sweat and she knew they could hear her boots slamming off the concrete steps noisily and could only pray that they couldn't tell it was just one set of feet.

* * *

It was a quarter to five when Lieutenant Caine arrived with Detective Speedle to survey the gruesome scene in SB Fern's store. He looked about the carnage and chaos grimly, while the police continued to get babbled statements.

"Afternoon Lieutenant Caine," Officer Grimsbury greeted him politely with a nod.

"What happened here?" Horatio demanded.

Officer Grimsbury sighed wearily and shrugged. "No one's quite sure, all we know for definite is that there were men with guns, Cuban in appearance, all dressed in black and following after two women, one of whom apparently returned fire."

Tim's eyes widened slightly. "In a shopping mall?" he quipped dryly. "What the hell did those girls do?"

"Lieutenant Caine over here!" Frank Tripp's voice called out over the store as he studied some bullet holes with distain.

Huddled against herself amongst the rugs and soaked in her own urine, Emily snapped out of her haze at the voice. 'Caine,' she thought dumbly, 'she said Caine.' She broke from the rugs in a mad fury with an inhuman wail.

Several officers drew their guns and turned in alarm before Horatio waved them down as he looked at the woman in astonishment. She halted in the middle of the floor and looked about wildly, her lip trembling, her face red and blotchy and soaked with tears.

"Fiona Marshalls," Horatio stated in astonishment.

She looked to him with wide eyes and nodded as she trembled and a sob escaped her. "Hor...Horatio Caine," she stammered it out questioningly.

He nodded. "Yes, I've been looking for you," he answered calmly as he took a step towards her. "Do you know what happened here Fiona?"

She shook her head. "Emily," she choked out, "it's Emily. She...ssh...she said you could help me."

"Who did?"

"Then she left! She left me!"

"Who did?" Horatio repeated calmly.

"Dd...Detective Moon."

Tim suddenly felt sick as several curses slipped out of him loudly before he could help it.

"What do you mean Detective Moon?" Horatio demanded, forcing himself to sound calm even as he filled with the same sick feeling Tim did.

"I...I...I saw her," Emily confessed as she hugged herself tightly. "They kkk...killed my friend...I was so scared...She was on the news, I recognised her... Shit I just wanted help!"

"Emily calm down and start from the top," Horatio urged her. He turned to Officer Grimsbury and ordered, "take her statement now."

Grimsbury fumbled for his notepad and a pen with a nod.

It was just after half five by the time they had gotten all the details, Emily was sent to the hospital with top security whilst every officer in the city was warned to look out for cartel members matching what descriptions they could gather and Detective Moon.

Horatio and Tim had hastened out the emergency exit witnesses said she had left through and down the stairs; there were a few blood spatters but no other hints before they found themselves exiting out to an alleyway that led to the main road.

"Did they get her?" Tim snapped frantically. "Do we phone her?"

"It could give her away," Horatio said coolly. "If she can use her phone she will. Let's just look for the evidence and hope it gives us a trail."

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING?!" Tim roared.

"Speed don't think like this," Horatio ordered with a stern look, "it's not going to help."

"Shit Horatio what if they've got her? What if-"

"Detective Speedle do not do this," Horatio commanded sharply. He tugged out his phone as it started to ring and snapped it open hastily.

"H we've got another one," Eric's voice spoke down it calmly, "Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee."

"Deal with it," Horatio answered coldly, "take Calleigh, Speed and I have a case." He hung up the phone before Eric could say anymore.


	14. Chapter 13- Caught up in Crime

"Well this just seems...unoriginal," Calleigh complained as she looked at the bodies distastefully. "Twins for Tweedledum and Tweedledee."

"I don't get it," Eric murmured as he took a photograph of the bodies, "if Ridley's right and our killer is this Charles Rothdale guy what's his motive? How is he picking his victims? And why wait twenty years to go back to the Alice in Wonderland theme?"

Calleigh shrugged as she studied the crime scene with intrigue. "Maybe he just got inspired one day," she murmured, "or maybe it's the whole perfect, imperfect Alice thing... I don't know, maybe he actually has an image of what each of his victims should look like and not just anyone will do. I mean look at these two, slightly overweight, identical, male twins still in their teens, it fits and I'm sure when we find out their names there is a connection there too, just like with everyone else."

The pair in question were two round faced, sandy haired boys somewhere between fifteen and eighteen, eyes gouged out of both they were wearing red and yellow striped baseball caps, and red dickie bows at their collars, their bodies had been found under a bridge amongst some trash bags and cardboard boxes, discovered by a couple of teenagers the cops were pretty certain were hoping to make a drug deal there.

The two CSIs glanced over as they heard footsteps echoing up the tunnel signalling Alexx's arrival. The dark skinned beauty gave them a warm smile before glancing at the scene with disapproval. "This guy certainly puts a lot of effort in," she murmured before she crouched before the bodies. "You poor boys, how did you end up meeting a bad guy like him? You should be getting ready to go trick and treating not lying abandoned like trash. Well it's okay, you've been found now."

"I guess we better start gathering up the garbage then," Eric grumbled, "and hope someone left us a clue."

Calleigh folded her arms and wrinkled her nose slightly. "No evidence of gunshots anyway," she murmured brightly.

"Well if he's sticking to his habits there will be LSD in these two," Eric retorted as he opened his metal kit box and snapped on a pair of white gloves. "This is going to take a while," he commented despairingly.

"What are Horatio and Speed up to anyway?" Calleigh quipped. "I thought Horatio would want to be all over this one."

"Maybe he knew enough to avoid this scene," Alexx remarked as she wrinkled her nose at the smell of the rotting trash.

"He said he and Speed had a case," Eric answered with a slight frown, "sounded grumpy about it too."

"Grumpy?" Calleigh questioned curiously as she looked at Eric.

"I don't know," Eric attempted to explain as he glanced up at the southern beauty, "angry maybe, it must be a bad case."

"What about Ridley?" Alexx asked as she turned to wave her team on. "Isn't this case her speciality?"

"I think she was due to do admin work today," Calleigh answered, "but I suppose I could call her. Did Horatio even ask about this?"

Eric shook his head. "Nope, he said for us to deal with it since he and Speed had a case and hung up the phone."

"Huh." Calleigh looked thoughtful as she dug her phone out of her pocket. "Well I'll give Ridley a call, see if she's interested."

* * *

Breathe. Count to five. Shit, this wasn't therapy, this wasn't going to work! Ridley clutched her gun so tightly her hands started to hurt. Just one more bullet left, she had to make this count. They were close, damnit she knew they were!

She didn't know how she had managed to flee this far, her legs were aching, her chest hurt and she was desperate to double over and start heaving in air but she feared the sound would give her away. So she stood poised, gun raised and ready as she leaned into the concrete wall. She couldn't flee the city and she didn't exactly know her way around it yet so she had tried to move to somewhere secluded. These people didn't fear witnesses so since crowds wouldn't protect her, Ridley had chosen to evade them hoping to avoid the body count going up. She didn't know where she was, down an alleyway somewhere against a collection of old, forgotten buildings.

Chatter carried over the wind, a mixture babble of English, Spanish and Cuban; Ridley wasn't sure what might be her pursuers and what might be innocent bystanders as she couldn't make out any words. They had all followed her, she knew that, which meant one of two things, they would either want her alive to use as a means to get Emily or they would make an example of her for trying to stand up to them. Vomit churned through her stomach and tried to crawl up her throat a couple of times. She swallowed hard as her heart started pounding and sweat laced down her. She could remember the Suburban Legends killer's lengthy torture as if it were just yesterday. He had taken his time with her, drawing out the pain as long as he could and inflicting every torture on her that he could think of. She knew she couldn't face that again. She looked at her hands in horror as they started to tremble.

Suddenly there was a noise, a terrible traitorous noise that had the detective filling with a dread she hadn't felt in years. Her phone was ringing! Having no time to do anything but shoot, run and hide Ridley hadn't taken a moment to flick it on silent.

BANG! She got one clean shot in a pursuer's right arm as they came for her all at once, cornering her before she had a chance. Four of them armed to the teeth. Last bullet gone, she could do nothing. She pointed her gun threateningly anyway with a scowl and thought of the knife at the back of her right boot.

"Take her," one ordered gruffly.

"She's a cop!" one snapped hatefully as he raised his gun to her.

"We won't get our merchandise back without her," the first snarled with a glower.

"We won't get it with her," a third said sarcastically, "but we could make an example out of her so no other piggies think to interfere with our business."

Ridley swallowed hard as she held the gaze of the first fiercely. 'Don't show fear, don't you dare show fear,' she ordered herself fiercely.

"Drop your gun bitch we know you've no bullets left," the first man ordered.

Ridley threw it hard and it hit him so hard in the nose his chin was instantly soaked in blood. "Looks like it still works," she sneered. A gun shoved hard into her chest by the second man was her answer. She doubled over with a gasp of pain and almost blacked out when he hit her hard with it again and she slumped to the ground.

They grabbed her quickly, two on either side and frogmarched her out of the alleyway. Wasting no time, they broke into the first car they spotted, a black Buick, and shoved her into the backseat between two of them. "Head down," the one to her left snarled before he slapped her hard to emphasise his words. He was the one who had hit her twice with his gun, he had a short, black bushy beard and smelt faintly of whiskey.

"The girl's probably long gone," the one in the front passenger seat complained, "and this bitch probably doesn't know where to."

"Well she had better pray her cop friends know," the driver snarled as he glowered at her in the mirror, not that she could see it as she was looking at her lap.

The drive lasted almost an hour, Ridley counted every minute and every turn trying to map out the journey in her head but it was hopeless. They had their guns sitting in front of them, she had to move as soon as the car stopped, had to be quick, one chance.

The car rolled to a stop, the man on her right reached for his door before his gun and she seized her chance. He had an injured arm thanks to her and was slow. She grabbed it, it was heavy but she managed swinging it up and firing without even aiming. BANG! Blood and guts spattered all over the interior of the car as his brains exploded with the impact of the bullet.

She turned as the man on her left tried to lift his gun; he smacked it hard into her side as her own hit hard into his shoulder. The door behind her opened as she fired again. The corpse spilled out as the window behind the man to her left shattered into a hundred pieces.

"Drop it!" she heard someone yell.

"Fuck you!"

BANG!

* * *

Horatio and an ashen Tim raced from Horatio's car to the scene of carnage.

"One body," one of the cops on the scene explained, "a dog walker heard gunshots and called it in but it took us a while to find the scene, pretty remote."

There was a black Buick with all four doors open looking very much like the scene of a massacre. Horatio made out a body with a ruined face hanging out of the right back side. There was blood everywhere and one abandoned gun lying awkwardly on the ground.

"There's a building up ahead," the cop explained as he gestured to a stone path almost lost to weeds and bushes. "We haven't gone there yet but there are blood spatters leading that way. We've been waiting for back-up."

"He looks like one of those assholes from the mall," Tim snapped as he looked at the corpse hatefully.

"Let's check out the building Detective Speedle," Horatio ordered as he tugged out his gun.

Tim nodded as he tugged out his own gun and let his lieutenant lead the way carefully up the path. The blood spatters seemed to zigzag suggesting running and a bullet on the ground indicated more gunfire. They reached the building, large, square and red brick with dirty windows and a single wooden door. Horatio reached for the handle tentatively, hanging back at the left side of the door as he did. "Unlocked," he murmured before he nodded to Speed and opened it, moving swiftly to the doorway with his gun raised.

They entered the building cautiously and spotted a second man, still breathing, lying on the ground under a table clutching at his bloody left side with one hand and a gun with the other. "Drop your weapon now!" Horatio ordered fiercely as he took aim at the man.

The man muttered several curses before releasing his gun, knowing he didn't have the strength to lift it anyway. "Your bitch cut me," he spat at them angrily as he glimpsed their badges.

"Where is she?" Speed demanded sharply.

The man smiled up at him with bloody teeth and sneered, "dead."

Tim kicked him hard in the face without warning. "Liar!" he snapped angrily.

"Detective Speedle!" Horatio called out sternly.

The man started laughing even as he winced and spat up blood. "She interfered, she got what all you pigs deserve."

"Tell me where she is or so help me I will stick my foot in your wound and make it ten times worse!" Tim threatened.

"That would be police brutality," the man mocked.

Tim's retaliation was to make good on his threat. He lifted his right foot and sunk it hard into the man's bleeding side causing him to cry out and curse loudly. "Tell me where she is!"

"I don't know!" the man wailed. "I don't! We chased her in here, but she'd hid behind the door, bitch pig cut me the moment I ran through. Hernandez got her back though, he hit her good," the man smiled at the thought. "And Ferdinand..." He grinned. "He tied her up, stupid bastard should have tied her down, she kicked him and ran, can't imagine she got too far tied up."

"They can't be far, Speed let's go!" Horatio snapped.

"Little bound piggy's going to get stuffed," the man mocked.

"Speed now!" Horatio ordered before Speed could retort.

They hastened from the building and searched round the area for over an hour trying to pick up a trail, all too aware that time was of the essence. Was she hurt? Had she been shot? Was she even alive? A branch snapped up ahead and they hurried forward.

Tim suddenly froze as he came face to face with a swarthy, bloodied man aiming a gun at him. He felt his hand shake as he looked at the circular black hole. Death was in there, a few seconds and it could all be over. He needed to make his move but he couldn't.

BANG!

Tim shook at the sound and when the man crumpled to his knees with a gasp of pain, a sob of relief escaped the dark haired trace expert much to his disgust.

Horatio lowered his own gun and looked to Tim sternly. "Speed stay on him," he ordered, "I'll find Ridley." He had only shot the man in the left knee, enough to subdue him but hopefully not enough so that they couldn't question him.

Tim nodded weakly as he lifted his gun and pointed it at the man, allowing Horatio to disarm him.

Horatio wondered if there were any more men to deal with, the security footage at the mall implied just four in total so there was at least one, Hernandez or Ferdinand. So what did that mean for Ridley? He frowned and thought hard about where she could have run. 'She'd hide,' he thought as he glanced about desperately, 'somewhere secure and invisible. It would kill her to do it, it would be like being trapped all over again but I know that's what she would do. Fear would drive her there and fear would keep her there too.'

His cerulean eyes widened at the sight of several bushes clumped together. Could she have crawled in there? Only one way to find out. He moved forward cautiously, bent down and looked over the area. No, she wasn't here; he smiled faintly as he spotted a scrap of sheen, cream cloth, just like the material of the shirts she often wore. She wasn't here but she had been.

He moved searchingly, ever wary of another foe as he looked for his co-worker. Blood drops on the soil, fresh, were they hers? He followed them to a small, wooden, abandoned hut, too obvious but the wood bunker beside it, perhaps less obvious. Would she have trapped herself like that? If they found her there she would have nowhere else to run to. He moved up to it carefully and paused, what if someone else was hiding there? He stepped to the side of the bunker and listened carefully. Nothing. He flung up the lid in one fluid movement and when no gunfire erupted out he immediately aimed his gun and looked. No one. He frowned in frustration; let the lid slam closed and continued looking.

Twenty more precious minutes slipped by as Horatio followed scant evidence through the forest of cypress and palm trees and then finally he found her. It was a decent hiding place, crouched down and squeezed in between some rocks, if he hadn't been looking for her he might have missed her. He crouched down before her, gun still out as he was ever wary of their missing man. "Detective Moon are you alright?" he queried in that brittle calm voice he reserved for times when he was very worried. From what he could see of her she was soaked in blood and there was a slight tremble to her.

"I...they're the fucking cartel," she hissed out fearfully with wide eyes, "they won't stop and I interfered they'll do awful things." She seemed too unnerved to even properly realise that Horatio had found her.

Horatio held out a hand to her before he realised that her own were still bound. He could only imagine the fear she had bolted through these trees with, hunted like a wild animal.

"They saw my face and I'm all over the news," she choked out.

"Ridley I wouldn't let that happen, there's one more man out here, once we get him-"

"He's the ringleader," she said sharply, "he'll tell others. The girl, did you at least find her?"

"Emily, yes we did, you did a very brave thing helping her and leading them from her." He gave her a gentle smile. "Reckless mind but-"

"Horatio look out!" she suddenly screamed.

He turned and fired quickly. BANG! A gut shot, it was a slow way to go but as it was their missing fourth man Horatio realised that he did not care. The redhead stood up, disarmed his opponent with ease and left him moaning on the ground in agony. He then returned and crouched down before Ridley once more with a gentle smile like he hadn't just condemned a dangerous drug dealer to a lingering, agonising death. "You're safe now," he assured, "there's no one left to talk."

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and shook her head. "It'll be all over the news, you know that," she croaked out.

Horatio could tell that all Ridley wanted to do was stay hidden where she was; it was the classic animalistic reaction to simply hide until the danger had passed. She wasn't thinking straight but who could blame her? "Ridley they won't gain anything by coming after you," he insisted, "I can promise you now it's not a war they want."

"Okay..."

"Come on out now."

Horatio leaned back slightly so Ridley could wriggle her way out with several grunts of pain. The redhead frowned at the cable ties binding her hands tightly behind her back as he helped her to her feet. She leaned against him slightly and he embraced her loosely with one hand as silent tears trickled down her cheeks. "You were incredibly brave today," he praised her quietly, "and no one is going to punish you for that, I promise."

She nodded weakly and then pulled back suddenly with a look of horror as she eyed the bloodstains on his shirt. "Sorry," she said hastily, "I didn't mean to get blood on you."

"That's alright," the redhead assured with a half-smile, "now, is any of it yours? Are you injured?"

"No," she retorted numbly, "I shot one and stabbed another, they gave me no choice."

"I know."

"I...they were going to torture me, I knew it, that's all I thought of and I got them first."

Horatio nodded as he wrapped one arm loosely about her shoulders. "You did what you had to."

Horatio made a couple of calls and they waited quietly as the Cuban bled out beside them until a group of cops, including Tim, finally found them.

"Ridley!" Tim was quick to exclaim with alarm.

"It's not her blood Speed," Horatio was quick to assure.

Tim charged at her, gripping her tightly by her shoulders and leaning as close as he could with a fierce glower. "Don't you ever ever pull a stunt like that again!" he snapped at her in a fury. "Fucking cartel shoot up a mall and you lure them away by yourself! Jesus Christ Ridley I thought I'd lost you again!"

The tears were there again before Ridley burrowed against the dark haired man's chest wordlessly, turning her head sideways to seek out the comforting heartbeats. Tim's heart was frantic though as his chest heaved every couple of seconds, running on an adrenaline rush. He frowned over her shoulder at her bound hands and grumbled several curses.

"I did what I had to," she murmured numbly.

* * *

It was close to nine in the evening when the grim case of Emily Jenkins, as she was really known, was finally unravelled and Ridley was finally free to go as her role in the shoot-up was accepted by the authorities, largely thanks to Horatio's interference. Ridley was acknowledged as a cop who had saved more lives rather than a reckless vigilante who had risked lives, but despite this more enquiries were inevitable.

Calleigh and Eric had finally caught up with the story and despite Ridley showing an interest in the Tweedledum and Tweedledee case, they all agreed she was in shock and better going home and coming to terms with her day. Of course they all knew she couldn't do that alone but she turned down offers from Tim and Calleigh to have her go to their houses as she feared cartel retribution. In the end Horatio and Tim talked her into letting them accompany her to her own home until she was settled.

She moved almost in a daze, drained by the day and very much on auto-pilot, faint relief showing in her eyes when they reached her house, all of them in Horatio's car. Exhausted and still stained in blood, Ridley dismissed herself to the bathroom leaving the men to sit awkwardly in her living room.

Tim resented Horatio's presence knowing that Ridley had wanted the redhead because she thought he could protect Tim, it made Tim feel inadequate to protect her especially since Ridley had little to no faith in Horatio keeping her safe and yet she thought him more capable of offering safety than Tim.

"Do you think she's right?" Tim grumbled at the redhead. "Will the cartel come for her?"

Horatio shook his head calmly. "No, they have bigger things to worry about and if they hurt her the cops would retaliate, it's not a war they want to start."

"She killed one, hurt another and you killed one, they're going to be pissed about that. Plus, thanks to her, we have Emily in custody and they have little chance of finding out about their drugs," Tim reminded him icily.

"They won't make it personal with Ridley," Horatio insisted.

"Is there some way you have of insuring that?" Tim queried sarcastically with a scowl.

"I know a few things about the business of narcotics and dealers," Horatio answered darkly. "Just trust me on this Speed."

"Alright," Tim said as he let out a sigh, "but remember it's been almost a year, all this time trying to make her feel safe again, just remember that Horatio."

"She kept herself safe today Tim, in fact she kept a lot of people safe. She's stronger than you think."

Tim's frown deepened and he rubbed at his nose awkwardly as he thought of the gun pointing directly at him and how he had once again failed to act. 'Shit she's stronger and I'm weaker,' he thought angrily.

Ridley finally returned to them, her hair dried and down in messy, dark waves, her face wan and tired looking without a hint of make-up. She was dressed in joggers and a navy hoodie with NYPD on it in yellow font. Horatio's mouth twitched slightly as he was surprised to see her look to so casual and was amused by the hoodie.

"You guys can go now," she said softly, "I shouldn't have kept you back as it."

"I have no plans," Horatio retorted calmly.

"Thanks," she retorted with a small smile, "but it's okay, really."

He nodded and stood up from the couch.

Tim pointedly remained where he was and folded his arms. "I'm staying," he insisted fiercely.

"Tim," Ridley began a protest.

"Ridley I'm not made of glass okay and if the cartel were to come I'd rather be with you. You're not pushing me away again, got it?"

She blinked in surprise and looked at him wordlessly.

"I left you alone to the Suburban Killer; I'm not making that mistake again."

Ridley shuddered and turned away as she suppressed several memories. "Justin and Ruby were hurt because of me," she murmured softly, "I can't lose anyone else because of my stupidity."

"You weren't stupid Ridley," Horatio assured her, "and you won't lose anyone. Let Speed stay, it saves me having to drive him home." He gave a flicker of a smile at this.

"Thanks H, really," Tim retorted sardonically.

Ridley nodded wearily. "Alright, I'll er...walk you to the door," she said awkwardly.

Horatio nodded and the pair walked up her hall to the main door.

"I'm not on leave again, am I?" Ridley asked suddenly with a desperate look in her eyes.

"No," Horatio retorted calmly, "unless you want to be?"

"No!" she protested quickly. "Sorry," she added hastily. "I just thought you might say I was in shock again or something..."

"You are but I think it will pass. Look, get some rest and come in late tomorrow, you can look at our latest case then, see what you make of the unfortunate twins."

Ridley nodded in agreement before letting him out the door and bidding him goodbye. She shut the door and locked it before returned to Tim in the couch. He looked moody and like he wanted to chide her for something but when she sat down and snuggled up against him he knew he couldn't. Instead the dark haired man sighed and pulled her close before murmuring down to her, "you have no idea how worried I was. I really thought I'd lost you, do you know how important you are to me? I..." He swallowed hard and frowned as he wondered why putting his emotions into words always seemed to be so damn difficult. "I love you Ridley."

She smiled against him as she nuzzled against his chest. "I thought you might," she retorted teasingly, "at least, I always hoped you didn't ride carousels for just anyone."

"Now that was especially for Calleigh, remember?" he replied mockingly.

"Tim."

"Mmm?"

"I love you too."


	15. Chapter 14- A New Lead or an Old One

"There's our little gunfighter," Eric was quick to greet Ridley cheerfully as she finally arrived in the lab. He winced slightly at the glower Tim gave him from behind the young woman. "What too soon for jokes?"

Ridley smiled and murmured, "it's okay, gunfighter beats ghost girl although I still prefer Ridley."

"Ridley the gun fighting ghost girl of Miami," Eric enthused.

"She's not a circus act," Calleigh chided as she frowned at Eric before giving Ridley a bright smile. "Firstly, congratulations on saving Emily and those people in the mall and secondly," the blonde rested her hands on her wide hips and gave her friend a stern look, "never ever do it again. When I found out what happened, Ridley!" She shook her head before stepping up to her friend. "I'm only glad I didn't know while it was all happening!"

"I know," Ridley said quietly with an apologetic look, "it happened so fast, Emily just approached me and the next second people were shooting." She paled just a little and shrugged off the unpleasant memory. "Can I look at the latest case from Wonderland?"

"Wonderland Murders, now that has a ring to it," Eric mused.

"It's just perverse," Calleigh scorned as she led Ridley over to the photographs of the victims. "We didn't even realise how bad this one was until Alexx was dealing with them. Thought it was actually mundane for our guy," she gestured to the photo of the victims the way they had been found before tugging down the photographs showing them exposed on autopsy tables. "And we wondered where his writing was," she murmured dryly.

The pair were missing their eyes, hidden beneath their caps initially, Alexx had revealed that some of their hair had been shaved off and replaced by black feathers, both also had severe acid burns around their genitals, something they had suffered alive and the quotation had been carved into their stomachs, the message split in half, the beginning of it on one torso and the end on the other. It read- 'They stood so still that she quite forgot they were alive'.

"Alexx says they were drugged," Calleigh explained, "only minor traces of LCD but there was a poison that had them paralysed, she says they would have been under its influence for several hours and both...both suffered sexual abuse with an object through...well you can see." She gestured to the photographs that showed their bodies from behind, revealing more acid burns, severe bruising and cuts.

"Have they been identified yet?" Ridley queried calmly.

"No," the blonde answered, "can you explain the bird feathers? Is it relevant?"

"In the story Tweedledum and Tweedledee have a fear of a crow," Ridley answered bluntly, "it appears as a big black cloud, and it frightens them when they're about to battle with each other. The story though is Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There, curious that he should move on to the sequel when...well when there are still so many characters in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland to imitate."

"What do you mean?" Eric queried with interest just as Horatio entered the blue lit lab.

"Does he pick his victims to match the characters or does he see the characters in them?" Ridley queried aloud.

"Isn't that the same thing?" Eric asked with a confused look.

"No," Tim answered dryly as he finally tugged his pale blue lab coat off its coat hanger and headed over to his work station.

"Let me break it down," Ridley said calmly, "what if rather than looking for someone who resembles Alice he comes across someone and just happens to think she looks like Alice?"

"I still don't get it," Eric grumbled.

Ridley shrugged. "It's only a theory anyway, maybe he picks them another way."

"An interesting one," Horatio murmured. "I spoke with our ringmaster, Nina Balksom."

Calleigh and Ridley exchanged a small, amused smile at this. "I wonder why she's still in town," the blonde murmured innocently.

"I described our potential suspect to her but she says no one like Mr Rothdale Junior worked in the circus."

"He was there," Tim growled out fiercely.

"A man in a rabbit mask who may have bought a lot of LSD was there," Horatio corrected with a calm look, "and he may have no connection to our killings or Rothdale."

"He just shot me for the hell of it then?" Tim quipped sarcastically with an angry look.

"He was a drug user panicking at the sight of a cop or potentially any kind of criminal panicking for that matter," Horatio answered.

"Yes because any old criminal can shoot at me, it's that bloody easy," Tim grumbled as he purposely kept his stare down on his work.

"Speed that's not what I meant," Horatio said gently.

"Yes it is," Tim grumbled, "first a drug dealer at the circus, then another one in the bushes, just anyone with a gun really, hell mine doesn't work half the time anyway, right?" he quipped savagely.

"Tim," Ridley protested as she looked over at him with worry. She knew he was as tormented sometimes as she was, last night he had been the one moaning in his sleep after all, not her and yet when she tried to broach the subject he just dismissed it and promised he was fine.

Tim glanced up at her as he became aware of the stares he had garnered. "Sorry," he apologised sincerely to Ridley, "I didn't mean to bring that up."

"It's alright," she murmured but Tim could see the fear dancing through her eyes and knew that it wasn't.

The dark haired male muttered a curse and resumed staring at his work deliberately.

Horatio vowed to himself to talk to the CSI in private before he turned back to the team. "Anyway, it's still possible Rothdale worked at the circus, we're just going on a description here, or he's maybe not our guy at all, although I think we're right with that one, Rothdale just fits it too well not to be our killer."

"Well I'm looking into the poison that killed our twins," Eric said, "it's not your run of the mill stuff, street name is Fatalis, and apparently its key ingredient is only found in South America."

"Well that's something," Horatio said with a glimmer of interest in his gaze. "Keep going with that Eric."

"Well I think he sees our victims, thinks they resemble characters in the books and then he starts following them and planning out their deaths. It's all so elaborately staged it must take work but look at their clothes, they all fit, so he must have picked his victims beforehand, so it's definitely pre-planned," Ridley murmured.

She looked to Horatio questioningly. "Estella van le Rael wasn't here long before she was killed, and she may have been trying to be incognito but she is a minor celebrity's daughter, I mean someone must have noticed something or..." Ridley trailed off with a thoughtful look before suddenly darting over to one of the computers and clicking through several documents.

"Rothdale's from here but no one knows where he's been for a while," the New Yorker said suddenly, "what if he spotted Estella in Vegas? It would explained the delayed reaction to the discovery of Imperfect Alice, I mean only the original killer could have known what we found in that attic, the body wasn't publicised for a while and even when information leaked out, probably from Snow White and family, there was nothing about the way the corpse looked with a teacup and a dead rabbit." She paused and looked over at Horatio confidently. "He learned about the police being in that house, knew what they could find and then he spotted a new Alice, stalked her for weeks and planned his murder, maybe I'm wrong, maybe it was more than her looks and being called Alice, maybe he learned about her intent to come to Miami or maybe that was a bonus."

"So you're saying, in theory, this guy spots his victims but takes his time planning and setting up their murder and the crime scene," Eric summed up, "which means he had to have been in Vegas because Estella was only in Miami for a short time, just a couple of days, which couldn't have been enough time for him to plan out her murder and get all the pieces together for it."

Ridley nodded.

"I guess we'd better contact Vegas then," Horatio said with a small smile, "and play nice with their team. Just maybe if we find out where Estella was spending her last few days there we might know more about our killer. Guys keep it up; I want this guy caught before we have another murder on our hands." The redhead exited out of the lab and hastened up to his office to make a phone call to Vegas.

"Well I've some bullets from a bad store robbery to attend to," Calleigh remarked chirpily as she followed after Horatio.

"I'm going to look into these twins," Ridley murmured as she hurried to join Calleigh, "maybe if we learn more about them we'll get a lead."

"Oh I know," the blonde said as she smiled over at her friend, "we should break together for lunch and do some catching up."

"Sure," Ridley agreed happily.

"For instance, I'm hearing rumours you have a new boyfriend," Calleigh commented innocently as she glanced over her shoulder to give Speed a mocking smile.

The dark haired CSI did not react as he was once again purposely studying his work. Ridley blushed faintly but gave no answer as she and Calleigh finally exited the lab.

"Are you okay Speed?" Eric was quick to pry once the women were gone.

"Fine," Tim grumbled to his evidence.

"Come on you can talk to me if you want to."

"I don't want to Delko," Tim said coolly. "I finally got discharged from the shrink; I'm not starting that shit again."

"Okay man," Eric protested as he held up his hands in mock defence, "forget I said anything." He turned away from his friend and busied himself with his own work though his gaze remained concerned. He had the clothes of the twins but he had gotten little from them, there were at least three unknown prints on them, all now logged onto CODIS. Their outfits were simple, only the hats and dickie bows seemed odd although their plain outfits were matching, if they could identify them they might get a better idea as to whether their killer had dressed them entirely or not. Eric had looked into the clothes' origins anyway after Ridley's theory about the killer making the costumes, the trousers, tops and shoes seemed run of the mill clothes found in most retail stores and the dickie bows had several copies in costumes shops although Eric wasn't sure that they were exactly the same.

After a few minutes he moved to the trash they had lifted from the crime scene, hundreds of prints were on them sadly and even more partials, it made Eric wonder how many tramps had passed by the bodies before anyone had bothered to report them. Hoping that Speed had cooled off a little he remarked inquisitively, "so how's Ridley after what happened?"

"She's fine," Tim remarked amicably without looking up.

"That's good, and how are you and Ridley?"

Tim finally looked up at his friend catching his knowing grin. He shook his head even as a small spark of happiness crept into his gloomy brown eyed stare. "We're good Delko," he retorted dryly.

"Are you...official?" Eric pried as his grin widened.

"Are you...fifteen?" Tim answered sarcastically.

"Hey Detective Sanchez has been asking you know, he thinks she's cute."

"Well Detective Sanchez can go to hell, he might have better luck there," Tim retorted in his quiet, dry manner. "I asked Ridley to be my girlfriend yesterday," he confessed, "that's what you want to hear, right?"

Eric nodded happily. "Good, I'm happy for you both, you took enough time getting there."

"Yeah we did and I'm pretty determined to stay there," Tim added defensively as he folded his arms, "so Detective Sanchez and everyone else interested may just give up."

"And what about Carrie and Raquel?" Eric queried mischievously. "They're both keen on you."

Tim looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head with a look of scorn. "No chance, Ridley and I have been through a lot and you know what, I'll admit it, I love her and that's it."

"Good, you guys really are great together."

"Uh huh so what about you and Calleigh?" Tim pried with a teasing stare.

Eric had the grace to look embarrassed as he gave a small smile. "Yeah we'll get there," he said softly, "that night at the Beach Hut was special, there was definitely something there that night."

"I know you shared it on my couch," Tim reminded him flatly with a wilting stare.

Eric laughed. "How did you have time to notice that? You and Ridley disappeared to bed pretty quick."

"Yeah anyway, you should just ask Calleigh out, properly, I heard Detective Hagen is talking about doing the same."

Eric frowned. "Well maybe I will," he grumbled.

* * *

It was just after four when Horatio was finally able to confront Tim alone. The younger man was outside at the back smoking and looking at a collection of palm trees distastefully. He glanced over when he heard the glass door open and gave a brief, weary nod to his superior before looking back to the trees. It was a mild, calm afternoon, the sky was a clear, milky blue and the only sound in the air was the distant, ever present traffic of the city.

"Do you have a minute Speed?" Horatio queried calmly as he leaned against the brick wall and glanced over at the traces expert.

Tim contemplated a refusal, truthfully he had been expecting this conversation since his outburst earlier and he had been dreading it. He sighed, stubbed out his third cigarette and discarded it carelessly onto the ground, ignoring the frown Horatio gave. "Sure," he said in a tone that implied otherwise.

"Speed I meant no insult to you earlier, you are a talented agent and anyone else in your position would have gotten shot too, there is nothing you could have done to avoid that."

Tim flinched at the reminder and frowned before rubbing at his nose with his right hand. "I could have avoided the Cuban," he said gruffly, "I could have made the shot instead of you but I didn't, I froze and if not for you I would have been shot again." Ridley didn't know about that, no did except Horatio but Tim feared his recent failure would soon be discovered by Ridley as he was obviously betraying himself in his sleep judging by her queries about his nightmares.

"I know you were discharged from psychiatry but there's no shame in you going back Speed, post traumatic stress is a serious thing," Horatio retorted calmly as he pushed his sunglasses up the brow of his nose.

Sometimes Tim detested those sunglasses, he felt it was a mask for Horatio, a way of hiding his emotions and a way of staring deeply at people and spying theirs without them realising. "I'm not going through that nonsense again," he grumbled. "I got shot, it happened, nothing can undo that, I got to live so let's just move on."

Horatio gave a small, tight smile at that as he turned round to face the dark haired man fully. "Speed who do you sound like?"

Tim's frown deepened and he bowed his head slightly. "It's not the same H, she went through a lot more, multiple times and after that shit with the cartel she still needs therapy."

"Speed I don't judge you for freezing up with the cartel but it's not a risk you can afford to take."

"It won't happen again," Tim growled out as he glowered at the lieutenant.

"I saw you bleeding out along with Ridley and it terrified me," Horatio said softly, "you're a good guy and I don't want to lose you."

Tim paled and clenched his fists slightly as he suppressed the memory. "Believe me I've no desire to die," he muttered. "I'll see about target practice or something with Calleigh," he relented.

"Good and if you need help please ask for it Speed, I don't want to lose you or Ridley to stubbornness or pride, neither of you is going to get dismissed, you will both always have your jobs here. If the two of you want time off-"

"H," Tim interrupted him with a wilting look, "Ridley has had enough time off, she's not going to take anymore, even if it's with me, especially not with this killer still on the loose, and I don't need any time, thanks."

"Alright, well in that case will you and Ridley accompany me to Vegas?"

Tim's brown eyes widened, he had definitely not been expecting that question. "Um..."

"I know it's Ridley's birthday in two days, we will be going after, three days after to be precise to look into Estella van Rael's last few days in sin city."

"And why me and Ridley?" Tim queried with a slight hint of suspicion in his voice. "Any trace evidence is going to be long gone."

"It was Ridley's theory that our killer found and followed Estella in Vegas so she should get to chase it up and I think if it's between you and Eric, Ridley would rather you."

Tim arched an eyebrow at that as he folded his arms and let Horatio see his suspicion on his face. "I thought you didn't approve of me and Ridley."

"Professionally you work well together," Horatio dodged Tim's remark carefully.

"Right, is there something I should know?" Tim demanded.

"Pack light, we won't be staying long," Horatio replied with a small smile before turning and heading back into the building.

Tim watched him go with a frown, still suspicious as to why Horatio had picked him and Ridley to accompany him to Vegas. Alright, Ridley did make sense, it was her theory after all and she was the detective of the group but Calleigh was Horatio's right hand and she was sociable and friendly, perfect for when trying to make a good impression in someone else's territory whilst Tim... Well he knew himself he wasn't exactly the first impressions guy. 'Is he trying to take us to something or from something?' he pondered as he finally headed back into the building. 'What could it be?'

Horatio headed upstairs to what was fondly known as the 'guns room' where Calleigh spent a good deal of her time testing out weapons trying to narrow them down to match a suspect's. He entered to spy her through a pane of bulletproof glass, earmuffs and glasses on as she confidently aimed a pistol into a jelly mould. The redhead waited patiently as she tested two other weapons out before tugging off the earmuffs and looking to a photograph of a bloody wound with a small smile of satisfaction. Sensing eyes on her she turned to give Horatio a smile before plucking off her safety glasses too.

The blonde joined her superior on the other side of the glass swiftly and quipped, "are you here about Ridley's birthday?"

Horatio tugged his shades off and pocketed them in his grey blazer. "Is there a plan?" he queried with polite interest.

"Well Eric's pushing for something Halloween, he's been asking Ridley about her birthdays, apparently in college she and her roommates had murder mystery birthday parties and ghost dos and they visited allegedly haunted houses, it sounds like she really was into that sort of thing."

"But?"

Calleigh's smile faded slightly, trust Horatio to know there was a but. "But it's weird she never mentioned family to Eric or named many friends, she started talking about one year with Justin and Don, how Justin insisted they dressed up and went out to a fancy dress party in the city and how he had them ducking for apples and carving pumpkins before hand, then she got sad and trailed off but for a while she looked so happy Horatio. I mean I think Eric is on to something, that Ridley really did love embracing Halloween for her birthday but that was before that Suburban Legends killer and with Justin and Ruby, I don't know if now... I mean I've mentioned it to Speed how she doesn't talk about family but he just got moody and dismissed it and then I asked him about last year and he just got grumpy." Calleigh pouted slightly and shook her head. "He's an unhelpful ass sometimes."

"You probably have him wondering why Ridley's never talked about her family to him," Horatio pointed out softly. "Well it would be hard to avoid Halloween activities on Halloween," Horatio pointed out, "just take care of the theme. Ghosts are fine but-"

Calleigh held up a hand to silence her superior. "Speed's already warned me," she said wearily, "as if I didn't have sense," she added crossly. "Nothing that might prompt some bad memories, I got it. Well look it's in two days and I know you're not one for Halloween Horatio but it is Ridley's birthday, her first one without Ruby so I want everyone to make a big effort."

Horatio nodded in agreement and gave a flicker of a smile. "Okay Calleigh, you win, I'll be there."

"And bring Yelina," Calleigh made it sound like an order and was pleased to see Horatio's expression falter just a little as he struggled to conceal his embarrassment.

"Right, there was something else," the redhead confessed.

"Oh?" Calleigh looked at him curiously with her vibrant blue eyes.

"In five days I'm going to Vegas and I'm bringing Speed and Ridley with me, it'll just be for a couple of days at the most to find out about Estella van Rael's last movements there."

"Ah." Calleigh frowned and failed to conceal her annoyance. "Well have fun," she said chirpily, though it sounded forced.

"It's not personal Calleigh," Horatio said gently, "this is Ridley's theory."

"And Speedle?" the blonde queried bitingly as she folded her arms crossly. "He's not exactly mister PC, God Horatio he doesn't even dress professionally some days and he's forgetful, he forgot to charge my crime lamp, he lost the battery charger for his camera, hell he forgets to clean his gun!"

"Calleigh," Horatio chided with a scolding look as he filled with surprise. He hadn't realised how bad the animosity between the pair was getting, sure they both cared about each other but it was obvious that Calleigh considered Speed lucky rather than skilled sometimes and his apathy towards his work was grating, especially when he was actually damn good at his job. Then there were the issues with Megan Donner, the former day shift supervisor, she had had a close relationship with Speed and an indifference towards Calleigh. It made the redhead wonder sometimes if Calleigh and Speed would even bother having a friendship if not for Ridley and Eric, alright that was unfair, they did like each other but they definitely had a tension between them too.

"I'm sorry," the blonde said wearily as she touched her brow briefly, "I know I'm being unfair and I do care about him, when he got shot God I cried so much worrying about him but even so Horatio, why him? Why not me?"

"Because the cartel business isn't going away," Horatio confessed quietly with a frosty, serious gaze. "Look I don't want him or Ridley worrying about it right now, because you're right, Ridley deserves to finally have a good birthday so I don't want to mention this to them just yet. Look they intend to come after Ridley and to get to her they might go for Speed, I don't know."

"But...you're only going to Vegas for a couple of days," Calleigh commented numbly.

"There's a CIA agent there I intend to talk to," Horatio admitted, "I have...contacts who can help make this go away but until I can get in touch with them and make that happen I need Ridley out of Miami."

Calleigh frowned as her gaze filled with fear. "Can you make the cartel just leave Miami?" she queried cynically. "And can you do it in two days?"

"No," he answered calmly, "but I can hopefully negotiate with them in two days and come to an agreement that keeps Ridley safe. She had no idea what that girl was involved in when she helped her, Emily just grabbed her on the street, Ridley doesn't deserve the wrath of the cartel for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and being stupidly brave."

Calleigh sighed and pursed her lips tightly together. "God Horatio is it ever going to stop?"

"It will," he assured, "hopefully in Vegas and they won't even have to be any the wiser."

"I hope you're right."

"Don't worry about it Calleigh, just focus on planning Ridley's birthday," he suggested with a small smile.


	16. Chapter 16- Happy Halloween Birthday

Ridley tensed when her doorbell rang and hastily thumbed away the tears from her eyes before placing down the framed photo on her coffee table, standing and heading to the door. She opened it to greet Tim holding a small bag in one hand. He looked on the verge of saying something until he caught her expression. "What's wrong?" he queried softly.

He was dressed for work wearing a dark blue-grey shirt and jeans with his gold badge gleaming at his hip, his gun sheathed by his belt and his camera hanging over his neck. He stepped into the house as Ridley tried and failed to hide the fact that she had been crying.

She shook her head wordlessly and gave a small smile. "I was just looking at some photos," she admitted. She turned and led the way into her living room where Tim immediately spied the framed photographs on the table, three in total, normally they were face down, too painful for Ridley to look at and yet too important for her to put them away. Tim immediately scowled as he saw Justin Silver's handsome face grinning up at him.

The traces expert's scowl deepened as he realised one of the photos had to be from Ridley's birthday. It was of Ridley standing between Justin and Detective Don Flack with Ruby on Justin's other side, all four of them bright eyed and grinning at the camera. Ridley and Ruby were in costume, Ridley as Snow White and Ruby as a very revealing Cinderella, and behind them were numerous people in costume.

"I hated that costume," Ridley confessed quietly as she wrapped her arms loosely about her torso, "Ruby made me wear it; she liked the idea of us going in similar costumes."

"It's your first birthday without her," Tim acknowledged, "but it's also your first birthday with us, properly that is, and your first birthday as my girlfriend," he added with a smug smile. "Look, you should put these photos back up," he said, though he hated the idea of having Justin's face smirking at him every time he visited, "but you should get some new photos too." He lifted his camera slightly with his free hand. "That's why I have this, well that and I need it for work," he added dryly. "I want you to have a good birthday and I want you to have memories of it and some photos of your new friends," he looked pointedly at her still mostly empty frame collection Calleigh had bought for her, "we all do."

Ridley nodded with a smile. "I'd like that," she said sincerely.

"Good, open my present then." He held the bag out to her and she accepted.

Ridley tugged out something wrapped in several layers of soft tissue paper and began unwrapping it with intrigue. The camera flashed in time to catch Ridley's look of joy and surprise as she finished unwrapping it to reveal a headless horseman beanie. "Really?" She looked at Tim with a small grin. "I thought you were against my collection."

"I am," he said with amusement, "but I didn't think my protests would stop you collecting. Anyway, keep going, there's something else."

Ridley placed the beanie down on the coffee table before hunting through the bag again. She blushed faintly when she tugged out a small black box. As she opened it the camera went off again capturing her wide eyed surprise. "Tim," she said softly as she continued to stare at the gift, "you...it's beautiful." The item in question was a gold charm bracelet with several charms on it- a crescent moon, a pumpkin, a giraffe, a tiny ruby, a silver coin that should have seemed out of place and yet was so suited to the bracelet, and a camera. Ridley felt tears burn anew in her eyes as she continued to stare at it in disbelief, her fingertip brushing against the silver coin.

"Yeah I'm not really into jewellery," Tim grumbled, "but I was hoping you'd like it."

She turned up to face him, joy and shock still conveyed on her face. "It's wonderful," she said, almost in a whisper, "really, thank you."

He stepped forward to her, gripping her right wrist in one hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Want me to help put it on?"

She nodded wordlessly and held out her wrist as Tim plucked out the delicate bracelet and clasped it about her right wrist. "I...it's so thoughtful," she murmured.

"I wanted to get you something special, alright we've only technically been dating a few days but I feel I can get away with saying we've had a relationship longer than that," he jested as their eyes met. "Truthfully I've been fond of you ever since that day you showed up at work without any shoes or socks on and tried to convince me you'd gone home to bed."

"I did go home," she protested with feigned indignation.

"And did you go to bed?" he demanded.

"Well...eventually," she murmured, "thanks to Ruby's special tea."

Seeing the sorrow fill her eyes once more prompted Tim to quickly say, "you know there's something I never told you about that night."

"Oh?" Ridley looked at him inquiringly.

"Yeah..." He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "When you fell asleep...you were cold so I put my blazer around you, I'd never done that for anyone before, been...well nice like that, it annoyed me a little so I took it right back before I woke you up again. I thought you were so stubborn and with no proper fashion sense."

Ridley let out a small giggle. "Well thanks I guess, for keeping me warm that night and thank you for this," she said as she jingled the bracelet slightly before leaning up to give him a deep kiss.

Tim drew her close, frowning when his camera got in the way. "One sec," he grumbled as he pulled back before he tugged it off and placed it on the coffee table.

The kissing became passionate quickly and Tim couldn't help but smile internally when Ridley didn't resist his advances as he fumbled to unbutton her shirt hastily and then reached for her bra clasp when the shirt had crumpled to the floor.

* * *

Eleven o'clock found Ridley and Tim hurrying into the Miami-Dade headquarters late looking more than a little dishevelled. Tim's hair was a scruffy mess and his shirt had been buttoned wrong, Ridley's hair was wavy and in need of a brush, her cheeks were flushed, her skirt was missing its belt and her shirt was wrinkled.

Eric gave the pair a knowing smirk when they entered the office hand in hand with a pant. "Happy birthday!" Calleigh cried out with delight.

Ridley's eyes widened at the scene as she felt her cheeks darken at Eric's grin. There were two grinning ghost balloons on either side of the desk Ridley usually occupied, envelopes resting on it, small bags and parcels, grinning pumpkins made of tiny lights, and a toffee apple. "Guys," Ridley gasped in surprise as she looked at each of them in turn.

Horatio was sitting on the edge of a desk, legs crossed and a small smile on his face, Calleigh stood just behind him with her arms at her side and Eric was sitting on a chair at another desk. "Look at that bracelet," Calleigh marvelled as she spied the gold glinting in the light.

Ridley held it up and out to her friend with a smile before looking up at Tim almost shyly and then back to Calleigh again. "Tim bought me it."

"Wow Speed you are capable of romance!" Calleigh praised.

"Don't make it sound like it's a rare thing," Tim grumbled with a roll of his eyes.

Calleigh turned Ridley's wrist slightly to take in the charms before turning to the presents waiting on the desk. "Quick open your cards and gifts!" she enthused.

Ridley laughed before turning to Tim with mock annoyance when she heard the familiar click of his camera. "You'll thank me," he assured her.

Ridley was touched to find that Yelina, Frank, Alexx, and Detective Sanchez had all got her birthday cards as well as Calleigh, Eric and Horatio. Tim's face had curdled when Ridley had revealed one card to be from Detective Sanchez and then subtly given Eric a rude gesture when he had started laughing.

Ridley unwrapped Calleigh and Horatio's joint present hastily revealing a smooth, oak box. She ran her fingers over it curiously before flipping open the brass clasp to reveal a gun. "A Beretta," she commented enthusiastically as she pulled it out. It was a two-tone steel and black Beretta 92FS with the fresh smell of metal and oil. Also in the box was a gun cleaning kit.

"I told you," Horatio said with a pleased smile at Calleigh.

Calleigh shrugged. "Alright but the Glock 17s and 26s are what they use in New York and Ridley had a Browning Hi-Power when she first came here and then a Smith and Wesson, a personal favourite by the way," she added with a nod to Ridley.

"Yeah, they're good to hit people with," Ridley murmured as she continued to study the Beretta.

"But you can't beat a Beretta," Horatio commented as he parted his blazer slightly to show his holstered Beretta Cougar.

Calleigh shook her head disapprovingly and folded her arms. "I'm the gun expert, remember?"

"Don't be sore just because you got Ridley's favourite gun wrong," Eric teased. "And how did you know it was a Beretta H? Or was that just because you have one?"

"I just know these things Eric," Horatio answered calmly.

Ridley turned to her next present, also from Calleigh and Horatio. She opened it up to reveal a black, leather gun holster. "Thanks guys," she said with a bright smile.

"Try not to throw this gun at people," Horatio suggested dryly.

"And keep it clean," Calleigh said sternly as she glanced over at Tim pointedly, "Speed you can make use of the cleaning kit too."

Tim frowned and swallowed down a heated retort, instead turning his moody glower on the floor as he clenched his fists slightly. He couldn't even argue against the jibe though he wondered how Calleigh could know that he hadn't exactly been treating his Jericho the way he should be.

Ridley tugged on the holster about her waist and then slotted the Beretta comfortably into place. "Perfect fit," she praised. "I've missed that feeling." She then turned her attention to another gift, this one from Eric. "A pumpkin carving kit," Ridley marvelled as she tore the last of the paper away and held Eric's gift up with a smile, "thanks Eric."

"I hope it gets plenty of use later," he enthused.

"Well I don't know," she murmured, "I haven't got any pumpkins."

"We can remedy that," Calleigh said brightly, "I'll have some at my house for you."

"Yes, I've got the perfect DVDs for tonight," Ridley enthused as she tugged out Eric's second gift, a candle holder that was a lantern hanging off a hook held by a girl dressed as a witch with a ghost on her left clutching a bag of sweets and a boy dressed as a demon on the right holding a pumpkin.

Calleigh had invited Ridley round for a quiet, birthday DVD night of campy horror films, or at least that was what the blonde had told the New Yorker. The truth was she was hosting a surprise birthday party for her friend.

"That reminds me, look at this," Eric said as he tugged out a crumpled flyer from his shirt pocket. "These are pinned up everywhere," he remarked brightly as he smoothed it out on the desk.

They all peered at it inquisitively, it depicted a many storied, wooden house with bloody red font stating 'CHIMERA HOUSE- 13 Floors of bone chilling doom, $25 per person, if you make it to the top floor you get your money back and a special ghostly cash prize!'

"Chimera house," Calleigh murmured suspiciously as she folded her arms, "wasn't that the name of the house we found a few dead fairytale characters in?"

"Yep," Eric answered, still cheerful, "weird coincidence but doesn't this sound awesome? Look," he turned the flyer over to reveal a black side with white and red font down it, "ghosts, vampires, altering rooms, levitation and more," he read it aloud. "You won't believe your own eyes. No one has ever been brave enough to complete all thirteen floors." He looked up from the flyer to Ridley and Tim hopefully. "Guys come on, this sounds fantastic! I mean we're CSIs, we know this stuff is nonsense for a fact, it should be a cakewalk."

Calleigh frowned and gave Eric a knowing glance. They had agreed to start the evening at Calleigh's house but were still debating whether to actually go out. Speed was verbally in favour of going nowhere and Horatio silently seemed to share the same view but Eric was adamant that Ridley would enjoy heading out and Calleigh was inclined to agree, especially after hearing how happy she had sounded talking about her birthday night out with Justin, Don and Ruby.

"It's an urban legend," Ridley murmured darkly as she studied the flyer with interest, "a combination of a few legends actually, the mysterious thirteenth floor and a real haunted house."

"We don't need any more of that nonsense," Tim was quick to scorn as he frowned disapprovingly at Eric.

"Wait, this house isn't meant to be real?" Eric exclaimed as his interest only grew.

Ridley gave him a small smile. "As the legend goes there's a haunted house attraction with thirteen floors, popularly known as the Chimera house, people come across it and are asked to pay a fee to enter with the promise that they will gain a portion of their money back for every floor they complete. The twists in the legend are that no one ever completes the floors, the attractions are real and," her smile faded just a little, "no one ever leaves the house, but if that were true how would we know of the legend? No one is ever able to state its exact location, people seem to go looking for it every Halloween and of course a lot of people are quick to cash in on the legend with their own Chimera house."

"A thirteen storey house can travel across states can it?" Tim queried sarcastically. "Delko this is rubbish, some prick has just renamed their house for the holidays to lure in idiots like you."

"Well if you're so immune to such nonsense you won't have a problem climbing up there then," Eric said confidently. "If nothing else you could do with the exercise man."

Tim frowned and shook his head scornfully.

"You know it's funny," Ridley mused, "my friends and I used to go looking for this house every Halloween; we were so convinced we'd find it but all we came across were lousy rip-offs with papier-mâché ghosts and fake glowing eyes."

"Well this could be the birthday-"

"Don't even say it Delko," Tim said warningly.

"Anyway," Calleigh interrupted, "don't you boys have work to do?"

"Yes," Horatio said with a small grin, "Speed you're with me, we've got a hanging witch at a high school."

"God I hate the holidays," Tim murmured dryly. He gave Ridley a slight smile and said softly, "I'll see you later, have a good day."

"You too," she retorted gently as she smiled back.

Horatio stood up at last, turned to Ridley and said, "happy birthday."

"Thanks," she retorted happily.

"Keep up the work on our Wonderland case," he instructed before he headed out the door. Tim followed after him with an obvious reluctance, scratching the back of his head as he did.

Ridley took a seat at her desk and opened up some articles.

"Well I've got some weapons to check over," Calleigh announced, "so I'll see you guys later."

"Yeah I've work to do in the lab," Eric remarked wearily, "I'll maybe see you guys for lunch."

"Maybe," Ridley answered brightly.

Calleigh and Eric exited together leaving the detective to her research.

"So what do you think?" Eric was quick to query Calleigh. "How about the Chimera House tonight? You heard Ridley, she even spent birthdays looking for it, it's perfect!"

Calleigh sighed as she gave Eric a pitying smile. "I don't know, for one thing it would hardly be a surprise and for another it is an urban legend, I don't really think that's appropriate for tonight and Ridley didn't look that happy about it. Plus didn't you say Ridley ran off from a haunted house last year?"

"Yeah but I don't know that she was specifically running from the house," Eric protested, "you'd have to ask Speed about that."

"I did," the blonde commented wearily as her smile faded and her gaze hardened slightly, "but he wouldn't say anything because he's an ass."

Eric gave a chuckle. "I think it's just a sore spot with him, remember he came into work the day after with a bloody nose?"

"That's right," Calleigh mused, "and Ridley had a black eye." The CSIs exchanged a surprised look before they both giggled. "No," the blonde scorned.

"Hey I said Ridley was outside at that party and off he went," Eric pointed out, "and they were both clearly angry with each other after that night, I mean remember the wedding dance, Horatio practically had to force their re-enactment."

"I remember, that was a horrible case but...well it's rotten to say but I liked that night," Calleigh remarked as she turned and gave Eric a soft smile, "dancing with you was fun."

Eric blushed slightly and bowed his head in a vain attempt to hide it. "Yeah," he muttered. "It was, it was fun at The Beach Hut too," he said as he forced himself to meet her gaze once more. "Do you think we could do it again?"

"What, another work night out?" Calleigh quipped innocently.

"Nah," Eric said with a smile and a shake of his head, "you and me Calleigh, could we...have a night out?"

"Eric Delko I thought you'd never ask!" Calleigh exclaimed with a wide smile as they finally reached the lab. She let out a giggle at the looks her loud exclamation had garnered.

Eric flushed crimson even as he grinned. "Is that a yes?"

"Of course," the blonde enthused, "but if it's a movie I'm picking and if it's dinner, please have better taste that Speed. I don't know how on earth he won Ridley over with takeaways."

Eric laughed. "No fear Calleigh, I have better taste in food that Speed and I dress nicer too."

"Right well I have to go test some guns," Calleigh enthused brightly, "so I'll see you later."

"Alright, will you think about the Chimera House?"

Calleigh sighed. "It's thought Eric but if it is an urban legend I don't think it would be right, we would risk dredging up bad memories."

Eric nodded. "I guess so," he murmured though he couldn't hide his disappointment.

* * *

It was just after eight o'clock when Ridley's taxi finally dropped her off at Calleigh's house. It was modestly beautiful in a decent part of town in a quiet but pleasant neighbourhood where all the houses looked the same, each modern, well kept and attractive with minimal gardens, decently new yet not flashy cars, and post boxes that always seemed to be full suggesting residents that spent their time in work and yet had hopes that one day their houses would be more than just a place to sleep.

Ridley stepped up to the porch, smiling at the trick or treaters darting past in a small group about the neighbourhood. Calleigh had a rubber bat hanging at the door and several LED ghosts sitting on the porch. Ridley pressed the bell, fidgeting awkwardly with her black, pleated skirt as she did. She had come as Calleigh had asked, in a weak form of a costume; she was all in black with a black cat's mask on and a long, black tail pinned to her bum. Part of her felt stupid but a bigger part of her felt a rush of joy; it had been too long since she had last done something fun and silly like this.

Calleigh finally opened the door and Ridley was quick to say, "trick or treat!" The blonde let out a giggle before marvelling at Ridley's costume.

"I thought you didn't like cats," the blonde remarked as she raised a pale golden eyebrow.

"Well Halloween is about dressing up as something scary," Ridley retorted with a grin, "and cats can be scary shits when they're hissing and clawing at you."

"Oh dear," Calleigh said as she laughed. The blonde had gone for the corny and yet somehow attractive costume of an angel, with a soft, sleeveless, white camisole with gold buttons, a matching skirt, the gold halo held up with two thin, almost unseen pieces of wire, and the white feathered wings, that actually looked like they had been decently made.

"Well it's scarier than an angel," Ridley pointed out.

"Yeah I don't like being scary when I'm not at work," the blonde joked. "Anyway, come in."

Ridley stepped in with an enthusiastic grin as she held up two dvds- Sleepy Hollow and Dracula.

"Aren't you just stereotyping with that one?" Calleigh queried with mock scorn as she gestured to the Sleepy Hollow dvd.

"It's not stereotyping if I'm doing it," Ridley retorted as she followed Calleigh into the brightly lit hall. There was a comical witch doll sitting on a stool to the left holding a grinning pumpkin shaped, plastic bowl of candy.

Calleigh led the way on through to her living room.

"SURPRISE!"

Ridley's eyes went wide as she tensed in surprise at the cries that greeted her as she followed Calleigh into the living room obliviously. Her shock turned to joy as she realised who the occupants were. The living room had been decorated with a black and gold theme; there were balloons, a Happy Birthday banner and an unhealthy spread on an old mahogany table of treats, buns and a large red velvet cake designed to look like blood was dripping off it. There was also a bowl of water and apples, a board with a cartoon devil on it with a tail to pin on it and several ridiculous bed sheet ghosts hanging from the ceiling with cut out eyes and faces.

"You remembered!" Ridley marvelled in awe as she giggled at the sight of the devil with the pin on tail.

"I think this is definitely a first for me," Yelina said with a cheerful smile, "a birthday on Halloween. Happy twenty-ninth Ridley."

"Twenty-nine," Eric mused woefully with a shake of his head, "you sure are young. Hey Speed, ever think you're taking advantage?" He winced when Tim dealt him a soft punch to his right shoulder.

"Ridley likes mature men," Tim retorted smugly.

"Well then what in the hell is she doing with you Speed?" Calleigh teased earning several laughs and one glower of irritation in response.

Yelina had, after much persuasion from Calleigh, agreed to don a pair of fairy wings with her pale purple silk dress, whilst Alexx had come, quite happily, wearing a gold masquerade mask and a black witch's hat. Tim had, as expected, point blank refused to participate in dressing up, whilst Eric had cheerfully put on a pair of light up devil's horns Calleigh had given to him. Frank had come wearing a black eye patch with a plastic cutlass sheathed under his belt and insisted he was a modern day pirate despite, as Tim had pointed out, the old fashioned fake sword, and Horatio had, to everyone's surprise, made a mild effort by donning a fox's mask complete with a false bushy tail. Calleigh and Yelina were both convinced it was a sign of his affection for Ridley and it had made Yelina a little annoyed though she had not voiced her thoughts to the redhead. She knew she was missing something there and that her thoughts about romantic feelings between the pair had to be wrong given anyone could tell Ridley only had eyes for Tim but then why did Horatio make such an effort where Ridley was concerned?

"I'm impressed you kept this from me," Ridley said as she folded her arms and looked from Tim to Calleigh.

"It was difficult," Calleigh chortled, "but I really wanted it to be a surprise for you."

"Well it's definitely that," Ridley marvelled.

"Well quick, have a birthday drink while I start lighting the candles," Calleigh insisted, "and Speed can light your pumpkin for you," she leaned close to Ridley with a grin, "he carved it for you, so blame him for the sloppy work."

Ridley smiled over at the scowling Tim. "You carved a pumpkin for me?" she queried in surprise.

He shrugged awkwardly. "Well yeah," he retorted carelessly, trying and failing to hide his embarrassment, "I wanted to get a photo of you blowing it out, Eric doesn't believe you actually do this on your birthday."

"Well I do," she retorted happily with a smile at Eric, "it's a tradition."

Ten minutes later and the grinning pumpkin was lit and ready in Ridley's arms. Calleigh insisted they all sang 'Happy Birthday' first before Ridley finally blew out the eyes and mouth amidst cheering and camera flashes. This was followed by Calleigh singing 'Halloween is coming' before Ridley then blew out the candles on her bloody cake and cut several slices.

The evening continued on jovially with drinking, eating, several cheesy Halloween themed party games and watching Sleepy Hollow with numerous questions by Eric to Ridley. "So was Ichabod Crane real?" he demanded. "And a constable?"

"I thought he was a schoolteacher," Calleigh murmured.

"He was a schoolteacher in the book," Ridley explained, "and based on several people Washington Irving knew but there was no Ichabod Crane schoolteacher who vanished after meeting a headless horseman."

"I'm guessing there was no headless horseman either," Tim pointed out as he pulled Ridley closer.

"Actually there was indeed a Hessian Jäegar whose headless body was found in Sleepy Hollow after a battle and buried in an unmarked grave by the Van Tassel family."

"Wait!" Eric cried out as he leaned across Calleigh to look at Ridley in disbelief. "The Van Tassels were real? Are you related to them?"

Ridley giggled at this. "You can see their graves in the Old Dutch Burial ground and no, I don't think I'm related."

"How long have your family been there?" Eric queried.

"Um not long," Ridley murmured, "my grandfather moved there with my mother when she was sixteen."

"Is your dad from there?" Eric pried.

"No," Ridley answered bluntly.

"Anyway," Tim interrupted as he gave Eric a cross look, "can we watch the movie?"

"Yeah it's getting to the good bit," Calleigh enthused.

At around two in the morning the festivities finally died down and everyone, after wishing Ridley a happy birthday, departed home with Horatio driving Frank, Yelina, Tim and Ridley, after Ridley thanked Calleigh for a wonderful party.

Eric lingered to help Calleigh clean up, praising for being an amazing friend and wonderful host. "You've got a knack for Halloween," he jested.

"I still prefer Christmas," the blonde murmured as she tugged down the banner. She paused and flashed Eric a warm smile. "Thanks for helping, you didn't have too."

"It's no problem," Eric insisted with a grin.

"Yeah but it's late."

He shrugged. "It's Halloween, and I've no plans for tomorrow. I suppose I'd better try ringing for a taxi now mind, that could take another hour."

"Or you should stay," the blonde offered suddenly. "I mean," she added hastily seeing the look of hopeful surprise he gave her, "it is Halloween, your chances of getting a taxi are slim and it is late."

"Well if you don't mind."

"I don't," she insisted softly.

"Okay then."

* * *

The following morning as Eric sat in Calleigh's kitchen drinking the fresh coffee she had brewed, feeling happy and yet a little embarrassed, they got the call Eric had been looking forward to.

"Hello," Calleigh greeted Horatio as she answered her mobile. "Uh huh, I see, no not a problem. I'll be there with Eric, don't worry. No, you, Tim and Ridley have to get ready for Vegas," she said a little bitterly, "we'll deal with it and I'll let you know if there's any connection to our current case." She snapped the phone closed and met Eric's inquisitive look. "Congratulations Eric," she said brightly, "you're getting to go the Chimera House after all."

"No way!" Eric enthused. "What's happened?"

"Four disappearances last night," Calleigh explained, "and one body's turned up on the second floor according to the police at the scene right now. Apparently it's a very messed up house so you're in luck."

"Brilliant," Eric enthused, his smile dimming a little at Calleigh's look of disapproval. "Sorry but you know, how often does this happen? I bet Ridley will be disappointed."

The blonde shook her head slightly. "I don't know, thirteen floors of a haunted house to go through, this is going to be a long day."

* * *

 _Wow I hope I'm doing right by these characters and not going too OC with them! I hope you EC fans liked this chapter, I do enjoy writing their progessing relationship and I love developing Tim and Ridley's, I've become quite fond of theirs and of course I just love writing Horatio's character :-) As always thanks for the reviews and favs and keep them coming!_


	17. Chapter 16- Welcome to Vegas

The moment they were through airport security and outdoors waiting for their transport Tim tugged out a cigarette and lit it, ignoring the look of disapproval Ridley gave him. He had been uneasy and irritable the whole time they had been travelling and Ridley and Horatio were both hopeful that Vegas might brighten his mood. In fact he had been unnerved and moody since yesterday when Calleigh and Eric had, after hours of searching, turned up a body on the seventh floor of the Chimera House, a floor appropriately named 'The Rabbit Hole'. The body had been of a Mike White, a twenty-two-year-old English Literature student who was boyfriend to the girl found on the second floor, one Molly Winters who had been savagely hacked into three pieces, evidently another unwanted body like poor Eliza Hayir. Mike on the other hand had been shot through the chest and left with a silver pocket watch in one hand, frozen at 3am, and a very familiar white rabbit's mask covering his face but showing off his gouged out eyes. The bloody quotation was on a wooden wall behind him, '`I'll fetch the executioner myself,' said the King eagerly'.

Tim had seen the photographs of the scene when he had headed back to the Miami-Dade headquarters with Horatio. Calleigh had tried and failed to prevent the traces expert from seeing them when he had insisted. He had grumbled a curse and tried to pretend it didn't bother him but everyone could see how it did. As far as Tim was concerned he was being personally taunted and it made him angry and more than a little uneasy that he was powerless to do anything about it.

"It's roasting," Ridley murmured as she fanned herself weakly with one hand. The heat was dry and dusty and the sun a blinding white, despite the numerous signs of civilisation that surrounded them it was obvious they were in a desert, one with the perfect conditions for driving people indoors to seek relief and finding sin and distraction as well. It was perfectly inspired to build casinos in a desert Ridley decided, there was plenty of land, no competition and the conditions meant everyone that could afford to spent their time on casino property whether it was gambling in the air conditioned rooms or lounging by the pool, always been lured by alcohol, room comps, the jingle of coin and much more. It was a land of mystery, promise, deceit and sin and the young detective found herself strangely fascinated by the allure.

"Welcome to Las Vegas Lieutenant Caine."

Horatio turned at the voice, a grin appearing on his face and his cerulean eyes sparkling with joy beneath his shades as he took in the beautiful, confident woman who stood before them with hands on her hips, her long, thin lips turned up and parted slightly to reveal a glimpse of smiling white teeth and a glimmer of charm in her deep blue eyes. She was clad in a cream vest top, an open, pale mustard jacket with matching trousers, and a pair of dark sunglasses resting on her the top of her head amongst her golden-red tresses. Catherine Willows, CSI assistant night shift supervisor, was as striking as Horatio remembered her, a natural beauty oozing confidence and charisma; she could enrapture someone without even trying and was a master of diplomacy, knowing how to balance the politics of the job without getting walked over. Catherine wasn't a woman in a man's world, Catherine was a woman in her own world and she was very much running it.

"It's good to see you again Catherine," Horatio retorted politely.

"It's good to get a chance to return the favour of playing host," Catherine retorted as her dark blue-grey eyes flickered over to Tim. "Welcome Detective Speedle, good to see you again."

Tim nodded with disinterest before stubbing out his cigarette and flicking it into the bin.

"Detective Moon I presume?" Catherine greeted Ridley with a smile.

Ridley nodded. "Nice to meet you," she said cheerfully.

"Likewise, well follow me; you all look like you might enjoy an air conditioned car ride." She turned and started walking slowly, giving Horatio a chance to match pace with her. "It really has been too long," she said to him in that coy, teasing voice he had thought about for many weeks after their first meeting.

"Indeed," Horatio agreed, "but I suppose if we met more frequently it would mean we were all getting sloppy with our suspects and letting them cross jurisdictions too much."

Catherine shook her head as she paused at a sleek, black Toyota with a familiar face in the driver's seat. "Well it doesn't all have to be business," she murmured softly with a suggestive gleam in her eyes, "as I recall you took me to a delightful night club, I have plans to return the favour, honey."

Ridley's eyes went wide at the nickname and she knew she had missed something when Horatio had actually smiled and retorted with his own nickname.

"I look forward to it, dear," Horatio retorted amicably as he headed round to the boot to put his luggage in. The three visitors squeezed into the back, Horatio behind Catherine as she could at least offer the six feet tall CSI some decent legroom whilst Ridley settled in the centre and Tim sat on the other side staring out the window with a distracted gaze.

"Hey, welcome to Vegas," the driver greeted as he turned round to face them with a small smile. He was a handsome, milky brown skinned male with a short, thick, dark brown afro, large, plump lips and the most beautiful, unusual eyes Ridley had ever seen. His eyes were small and ovular with large, round irises that were a pale, frost blue with a strange but mesmerising ring of gold around the pupils, they immediately pulled the New Yorker in, almost hypnotising her with their intensity.

"Good to see you again Warrick," Horatio answered brightly.

"You too," the driver said before his gaze flickered over to Tim. "Wait a minute, is that you Detective Speedle?" he quipped in surprise. "Damn you look different."

"Well it's been a while," Tim murmured in a tired voice as he finally looked at the native CSI.

"Right," Warrick murmured before his stare quickly fell on Ridley. "Detective Moon, right?"

Ridley nodded though with less enthusiasm than she had greeted Catherine with as she was starting to wonder if the Vegas CSIs knew her name because of Horatio or because of the press.

"I'm Warrick Brown," he introduced, "one of your hosts for the new few days." He added jokingly, "we promise no swamp diving and definitely no gators."

Horatio gave a small laugh at that. "I don't think you were actually bothered by any gators when you visited us."

"I swear I saw one," Warrick argued before he finally turned on the engine and pulled out of the parking bay.

"What case was this anyway?" Ridley queried curiously.

"It involved a limo driver with some very perverted interests," Catherine explained calmly, "he would break into his clients' homes, murder the husbands, kidnap the wives and live out his sick fantasies on them for a few days before killing them, but when he skipped town to Miami he didn't just take a wife but a little girl too."

"Sasha Rittle," Horatio remarked quickly.

"That's right," Catherine commented as she looked at him with mild surprise.

Ridley gave him an odd look, the shock all too clear on her face.

"Rittle," Tim repeated quietly, though with more emphasis on the 'ts' as he gripped Ridley's right hand and gave it a gentle squeeze knowing all too well what name she had heard instead.

"So do you guys want to check into a hotel first or get the meet and greet over with?" Warrick queried curiously as he glanced at them in the mirror.

Ridley was soaked in sweat and in dire need of a shower and reluctant to meet anyone with the reek of sweat and the desert on her but she figured it was a smell that would linger as long as she was in the city of sin and shrugged when Horatio glanced at her.

"I guess we'll get the meet and greet over with," Horatio answered calmly when Tim offered no opinion.

"Good choice," Catherine enthused, "Grissom is very curious about you guys."

It took just under an hour to reach the Las Vegas CSI headquarters and by then the Miami team were tired, hungry and beginning to regret their decision. When they stepped out of the car and lost the soothing air conditioner their discomfort only grew as the stale desert air hit them immediately.

"Do you ever get used to this heat?" Ridley grumbled as they headed up to the main doors. She tugged on her sunglasses as the sun reflecting off the windows temporarily blinded her. Miami's heat was humid, it at least hinted at damp even when it was heavy in the air but this heat was dry, it made her gasp a little harder for air and what oxygen she did breathe in was stale and tainted with dust.

"Nope," Warrick answered cheerfully as he pulled on his own shades, "that's why we normally do the night shifts, it's cooler at night."

"And more dangerous too," Catherine added dryly. "Plus there's the pay, better rate at night even if the crimes are that little bit stranger."

When they entered the building they found it busy with staff, many of whom were quick to gawk at the new arrivals. Word had spread quickly about the CSIs of Miami coming for a visit, including the infamous Detective Moon. Under the less dazzling lights of the building, Warrick tugged off his sunglasses and took the opportunity to glance at Speedle once more. When he had met the man four years ago Speedle had been young, eager and talkative with short, cleanly cut hair, a clean shaved face, a reasonably respectable dress sense and a body that suggested some gym activity. This man before him was thin, scruffy, moody and quiet; the plucky enthusiasm in his brown eyes was gone, replaced with a tired, sunken moodiness, and he looked like he was in need of a good meal.

"Riddle? Riddle is that you?"

Ridley froze at the voice whilst Horatio and Tim immediately looked hostile as they searched for the source of the voice. Catherine was surprised to see how quickly the men flanked the detective, Horatio standing partially in front of her whilst Tim got as close as he could. The detective herself had gone a bluish-white as if she had just seen a ghost, which only piqued Catherine's curiosity.

A man stepped out of the crowds, olive skinned and dark haired in a brown suit with a white shirt, a Colt at the right of his belt and a gleaming silver detective's badge on the left. He was somewhere in his late forties and looking at Ridley with surprise.

Ridley blinked hard as if expecting the man to dissipate before stammering, "Uncle Chris?"

All eyes fell on the New Yorker in disbelief and Warrick was quick to mutter to a balding officer who had been near the olive skinned detective, "of all the people to know."

"Who Chris, or the Sleepy Hollow girl?" the detective retorted sardonically.

"Riddle look at you! I didn't know you were coming here!"

"Stop calling her that," Tim growled out with a hateful stare at the man, "her name is Ridley."

"Uncle Chris," Ridley was quick to step forward and diffuse the situation, "I had no idea you were in Vegas."

Warrick could read all too easily on her face that she probably wouldn't have come to Vegas had she known.

Detective Chris Cavaliere frowned slightly as he took in his niece; she was wearing a light, long sleeved, ivory shirt, a pleated blue skirt, translucent gossamer tights and knee high brown boots. In New York it might have been considered fashion but in Vegas heat it was a sign that something was kept purposely unseen, that or it was a woman who simply hadn't known how to dress for the weather but Chris doubted that. "And I didn't know you were a CSI now," he retorted, his disapproval clear in his voice.

Catherine rolled her eyes at the detective's tone whilst Warrick looked visibly irritated. Chris was usually one of the easier to get along with cops and he didn't seem to hold a personal grudge when a cop got questioned by a CSI over a case or his work and yet the resentment was still there somewhere in him as it seemed to be with most of the city cops. There always had been and always would be a rivalry between the police and CSI, it was one CSI night supervisor Gil Grissom had stumbled over too many times and one Captain Brass, the balding detective standing beside Warrick, tried very hard to keep as peaceful as possible.

"I'm not," Ridley retorted with a slightly wounded look, feeling Tim's eyes burning into her she added hastily, "well not quite, I mean...I'm still a detective I just I...I had CSI training in New York."

"Why does she say that like it's a dirty thing?" Warrick queried with grim amusement as he folded his arms and gave the New Yorker an unimpressed look. He and Brass were up against the walls observing none too subtly like half the other lab rats and police lingering in the corridor, but they at least were keeping their voices soft.

"So...you're both?" Chris queried dubiously.

"Oh good," Captain Brass enthused sarcastically, "the worst of both worlds combined."

"Yes," Ridley answered, summoning some firmness to her voice. "Anyway, um..." She glanced back to Horatio helplessly. "We're here on business I'll...talk to you later."

Chris actually looked hurt and Catherine was surprised to see it, she hadn't actually thought the man was capable of having a sensitive side. "Right, later, Riddle," he added the name purposely, giving Tim an unfriendly look as he did.

"Let's go Detective Speedle," Horatio ordered sharply before Tim could snarl something at Chris, "I believe Catherine has introductions to make."

"Well we may as well start here," Catherine murmured before she caught Horatio's serious expression and got the obvious hint that he wanted out of the corridor. "Well that's Detective Cavaliere, who apparently one of you knows anyway," she introduced vaguely with a wave at the frowning Chris. "That's Captain Brass standing beside Warrick," she continued, "and you can meet the others upstairs." She gave them a cheerful smile. "Let's go."

As they walked all Warrick could think was, 'you could cut the tension with a knife. What's up with Detective Speedle? Guy seems on edge, I must ask Catherine if he's really the same guy or if I just remember him differently.'

They headed up to the second floor, pausing to look in at the small break room where a smirking young male with muscular, golden brown arms and a short crop of thick, dark hair sat teasing a fair skinned woman with a long, soft, brunette bob. The pair fell silent and looked over inquisitively when Catherine entered the room followed by Horatio, Ridley, Tim and finally Warrick. Horatio entered with a polite, thin smile whilst Ridley looked noticeably distracted and Tim had his hands in his jeans' pockets and was glancing about the room with disinterest.

"Nick Stokes, Sara Sidle, meet Lieutenant Horatio Caine, Detective Ridley Moon and Detective Timothy Speedle," Catherine introduced as she gestured from one to the other.

"The Miami Squad," Nick greeted cheerfully in a voice thick with a Texan accent as he stood up. He was tall, toned and tanned, all muscle, good looks, and an easygoing smile that was warm and charming enough to make Tim feel just a tad nauseated.

"What Nick means to say is welcome," Sara chirped up politely though her brown gaze seemed full of suspicion as she glanced from one to the other, distain flickering through her gaze when it fell on Tim. 'Surely if you're coming to visit another jurisdiction on business you make some effort,' she thought scornfully.

"Hey Nick, Ridley is the one you were talking about the other day," Warrick spoke up, "the Urban Legends detective."

"Right!" Nick's grin widened as he took a step towards Ridley. "That was an interesting case, so every one of those kills was really an urban legend?"

"Right," Ridley repeated quietly as she subconsciously stepped back and was relieved to feel Tim's warmth behind her.

"And you," Nick marvelled, "you survived being buried alive, that makes you kind of a legend round here."

Ridley felt her hands trembling against her control as she paled at the memory the Vegas CSI had sprung. "Um...right."

"Asshole," Tim grumbled before he could help himself. "See you outside H." He grabbed Ridley by her right hand before Horatio could retort and tugged her past Warrick and out to the corridor.

"Man what's his problem?" Nick grumbled with a cross look.

"Well you were just taking about that poor woman getting buried alive," Sara chided him, "not exactly smooth Nick."

"I just wanted her to know I admire her for surviving all that," Nick muttered even as he gave Horatio an apologetic look. "I'll go apologise," he offered, "I didn't mean to upset her."

"It's alright," Horatio said calmly, "Detective Moon will know that, if you want I'll pass on the apology."

"Yeah, I think Detective Speedle might not be too forgiving," Warrick murmured sardonically as he shook his head at the open doorway. "Man he is not how I remember him at all."

"Oh they're probably just jet lagged," Catherine murmured as she gave Horatio an apologetic smile. "Let's wrap up the meet and greet shall we? Then you three can go get some rest in a hotel."

"Good idea," Horatio retorted.

Warrick exited to the corridor first, in time to see Tim standing over Ridley and murmuring something into her right ear. She nodded weakly as she hugged her torso close before glancing over at Warrick with a tired gaze.

The small group, minus Warrick, started walking down the corridor.

"I hope you guys don't mind weird," Catherine murmured as she concluded their very brief tour at the end of the corridor.

Ridley gave a small, sardonic laugh at that. "Some of us specialise in it," she retorted calmly.

"Indeed some do," Catherine said dryly as she knocked the door lightly before opening it.

"Congratulations Ridley there's someone stranger than you," Tim taunted earning an unimpressed glower in response.

The room in question seemed to function as an office, a biology room and some sort of museum of oddities. It was a dark room cluttered with a variety of dead animals, bones, jars, test tubes, pictures and some objects that were simply unidentifiable. Spiders, butterflies, moths and scorpions sat in frames behind glass like pieces of art whilst baby pigs, undeveloped lizards and mutated rats sat in amber, red and clear coloured liquids in jars that magnified their deceased forms. There were also jars with holes in their lids and very real specimens of insects in them, and a tank of something unseen, shrouded behind leaves and darkness.

On the main desk was the expected assortment of pens, paper, photographs and a computer but also a human skull, a baby pig in a jar of clear liquid, an old, gold bell, a black scorpion in a black frame, a lamp, test tubes of numerous coloured liquids and finally, a small, metal, black sign that indicated the desk's owner as one 'Gil Grissom- Supervisor.'

The man in question sat behind the desk, head bowed as he studied at a selection of photographs curiously. He was swarthy with iron grey and brown, short, curled hair, the hint of a beard at his chin and round glasses resting on his nose.

"Grissom," Catherine addressed the man without a title and yet the affection and respect was clear in her voice, "say hi to our friends from Miami." She folded her arms and turned slightly so that she was partially facing both Gil Grissom and Horatio Caine.

Gil glanced up with a curious, serious dark blue stare and remarked calmly, "hi friends from Miami."

"Cute Grissom," Catherine scorned with a shake of her head. "Lieutenant Caine, this is our supervisor Gil Grissom, Gil, this is Lieutenant Horatio Caine, who I've mentioned several times to you."

Horatio's golden-red right eyebrow rose a notch at that as he pondered over what 'several' meant.

"And this is Detective Ridley Moon and Detective Timothy Speedle, also from Miami, Detective Speedle assisted with our limo driver case, you remember."

"No and yes," Grissom retorted as his eyes darted from one to the other, "no, Detective Moon is not from Miami, she is from New York as I recall and yes, I remember you mentioning Detective Speedle."

"I live in Miami now," Ridley was quick to retort as she studied the man with interest. 'A similar position to Horatio and Mac yet they're all so different,' she thought to herself. 'He's not as warm as Horatio. I bet the look he's giving me is the same look he gives one of his bugs.'

"Yes but you are from New York," Gil retorted softly as he stood up from his desk at last and stepped round it, "Sleepy Hollow if Nick's ramblings are anything to go by."

"Nick has a slight fascination with you," Catherine confessed, "the whole Sleepy Hollow thing and urban legends case, our newest member Greg Sanders has been following your cases as well, he's almost willing to believe you cracked the legend of the headless horseman and that started your career as a detective."

Ridley made herself smile even as she hugged her hands into her sides to suppress the trembles. "That would make a good comic book," she enthused, "but that's about it."

"'A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere. Some say that the place was bewitched by a High German doctor, during the early days of the settlement; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet or wizard of his tribe, held his powwows there before the country was discovered by Master Hendrick Hudson,'' Grissom mused.

"Ah you're a Washington Irving fan," Ridley praised, "he put our quiet village on the map."

"Eric would love this," Tim grumbled.

Grissom nodded before turning his attention to the tall Lieutenant Caine at last. "Welcome to Las Vegas Lieutenant Caine," he said politely as he extended a hand, "I hope you can find some answers here."

"Me too," Horatio retorted as he accepted the hand and shook it.

"It could be difficult with so much time having past since the victim was here," Gil murmured as he released the hand.

"We just need to trace her last steps here," Horatio explained, "and hopefully that will give us some clues."

"Right, you don't think she was alone," Catherine remarked with an interested look, "you think your killer was here following her and followed her to Miami."

"Perhaps," Horatio allowed.

"Well we will help how we can," Gil commented, "but we do have our own work to attend to so my apologies Lieutenant Caine if we cannot spare the attention you might like."

"It's no problem," Horatio retorted with a polite smile, "we understand."

"Right, well let's get you three to your hotel," Catherine said, "and later, I can show you Vegas' nightlife Horatio."

"I think I shall enjoy that," Horatio answered, still calm and polite though there was a spark of eagerness in his blue eyes.

* * *

"So who's Chris?" Tim had the words out before Ridley even sat down her bag.

She eyed her partner with disapproval as he was already in the mini bar hunting out a beer. "It's not even six o'clock Tim," she scorned him.

"And?" he retorted as he shut the fridge and began a hunt for a bottle opener. "What about Uncle Chris?"

"What about him?" Ridley shot back in annoyance as she went to place her hands on her hips but failed as the trembling was still ongoing, milder but still enough to annoy her.

"You're not going to share?" Tim looked at her questioningly with a frown on his face.

Ridley sighed and pushed a hand through her dark, sweat matted tresses. "There's not much to share," she muttered tiredly.

"Not much you want to share," Tim accused. "When you told Eric about your mother and grandfather moving to Sleepy Hollow that was news to me too. You never talk about your family and I've never pushed but we're in a relationship and I want to know more about you."

"Well what about your family?" Ridley retorted heatedly as he finally opened the bottle. "Your parents were actually in Miami," she reminded him sharply. "And okay you and I weren't really talking but you never mentioned them after, not even their names, and no suggestion of an introduction!"

It was Tim's turn to scowl and sigh as he looked about the kitchen in dismay. It was a four star hotel room and it looked it; it was spacious and bright with more furnishings than Tim's house. "I...they, they don't know you," he murmured, "all they know is what they've read."

"Ah." Ridley dipped her head slightly and nodded. "I get it, they don't approve of me, do they?"

"They don't know you," Tim repeated fiercely. "And fuck that's my fault, you're right, I've made no effort to let them know you so they can realise everything they read is bullshit but," he looked at her apologetically, "I just don't want them saying something stupid or nasty and you backing off."

"Backing off?" Ridley echoed with a questioning look.

"You've done it too many times already Ridley," he reminded her with a stern look, "just backing off from me for the better only it's not for the better because things are shit without you. So yeah, I didn't want you meeting my parents in case they upset you and you backed off me because you thought it would be the right thing to do because you think I should have their approval or some nonsense."

"That is nonsense," Ridley chided with a gentle smile, "if they don't like me, they don't like me, that's their prerogative, it's your feelings that concern me Tim."

"Well I love you," he grumbled the words as if they were hard to say, "you know that."

She smiled and nodded. "And I love you too. Chris is my mother's older half-brother," she explained, "when...well..." She sighed. "My mother got pregnant, with me, at fifteen, that's why she and my grandfather moved to Sleepy Hollow, to try and escape the judgement but my grandmother had already separated from grandfather and stayed behind to remain close with her son, Chris. Anyway, grandfather became an alcoholic, I mean he and my mother showed up a broken family with issues in a strange town, it was a terrible decision and they were immediate outcasts. He died pretty quick leaving my mum alone with me. It wasn't great even with what was left of grandfather's money, my mother blamed me for all of her problems and made it clear that I ruined her life," she added listlessly. "A cliché I know."

She paused for a moment, meeting Tim's sympathetic stare before she continued on. "Chris came up a few times, I don't remember how many, he wanted a relationship with us but my mother wasn't interested and shut him out every time. He's the only one who came to see me become an officer," she confessed quietly, "and he took me out for pizza to congratulate me on becoming a detective." She grinned at the fond memory. "I've never seen much of him, but he's always tried with me you know, I let the distance happen I guess..."

Tim took a deep gulp from the bottle and frowned. "Ridley you were all over the news last year, how come your uncle never called or visited? I mean you were in critical care in hospital."

Ridley turned away from Tim as she paled. "Please don't," she murmured quietly, "I don't want to talk about that, not here. He probably just thought I'd push him away or he wasn't paying attention to the news, I don't know Tim."

Tim's frown only deepened. "Ridley I know you don't want to talk about this but it's been almost a year and the shrink isn't helping much, come on, talk about it with me."

"Talk about what Tim?" she asked savagely. "Being the girl who was infamously buried alive? He said it like that's all it was, like I'm some sort of hero for making it out...fuck he can't imagine, all that happened before I went in that death box, hearing the dirt being heaped on top of me," she paused as she felt her chest tighten and let out a shaky breath, "you know Tim, you were there, at the grave, at the hospital you know what happened!"

"Jesus Ridley I do know but I don't know about the before, about Hawkes, I mean didn't your family wonder where you were? How did you get out of that? What the hell did you do after? Did anyone help you? Where was your dad?"

"No Tim," she snapped angrily, "you don't get to play detective on me, it's not fair and it's hypocritical. Do you want to talk about getting shot? About how you're nervous and afraid because he left a body to taunt you? Do you want to share that fear? Because I know that fear Tim, I know what it's like to almost die, what it's like for that guy to still be out there, mocking you."

Tim sighed and shook his head even as he paled. "Alright Ridley," he said softly, "you have a point but I'm not sorry for pushing you. God knows I don't want you to continue reliving this shit but I don't want you stuck with it either. Truthfully I want to make it go away, you know that, but I can't and I can't understand it either when I don't know everything but maybe we could both share a little more.

Look I'll not mention it again while we're in Vegas, it's not fair of me, you're right, let's call a truce hmm?" He gave her a small, hopeful smile.

Ridley smiled even as she felt her eyes burn and hugged her hands into her torso tightly. "Okay," she murmured softly.

Tim parted his arms and embraced her close, burrowing his face against her hair gently before murmuring, "can I get a proper introduction to Uncle Chris?"

Ridley nodded against him. "If you promise to play nice."

"I'm always nice."

"Tim I'm serious."

"I know," Tim grumbled, "but he called you...shit you know."

"I know but he doesn't...I mean I could never tell him, not about that...even if it made me sick to hear him say that name the few times he visited me in New York."

Tim nodded even as he pulled her closer.

* * *

 _Yay Vegas! Apologies for the lack of E/C I promise I will make up for it! I love all the CSIs in case you can't tell and I've had the cameo of the Vegas CSIs planned for a while so I hope you enjoy! A lot of referencing to the episode that started it all for Miami, Cross Jurisdictions, easily one of my favourite episodes :-) Tim really changed from that episode, for the better mind, but I thought I'd offer an explanation as to why. This is before Nick got buried alive btw._

 _Also Chris Cavaliere, I just wanted Ridley to have a relative from one of the shows but one who was a minor character and honestly I adored Chris ever since he revealed that he takes morbid photographs for a scrapbook, what a little weirdo! So yeah that's were that randomness came from. I felt bringing a relative into it would be a good way to reveal more about Ridley's family life._

 _Anyway thanks for the reviews and favs as always and keep them coming! I hope you like the Vegas bit!_


	18. Chapter 17- A Labyrinth of Sin

"Tim you look seriously uncomfortable," Ridley teased as she leaned up to fix his tie.

"I really wish I hadn't agreed to this," the traces expert grumbled, "since when does going out for dinner constitute looking into murder?"

"Since we don't have any jurisdiction and we're trying to play good politics with the neighbours," Ridley retorted humorously as she stood back. "Besides, when's the last time we went out for dinner?"

Tim quirked an eyebrow at that as his lip twitched threatening a smile. "And there I thought you liked our takeaway nights," he said dryly. Truthfully he was glad to see Ridley happy again and she was happy, she practically beaming from ear to ear. Tim liked to think it had something to do with his efforts to make amends for his earlier prying with some physical but affectionate attention. That thought made him smile as he recalled how earlier in the year Ridley wouldn't even get into a bed with him to cuddle never mind anything else but now, despite the few nightmares, odd pallid face and slight trembles now and again, she was definitely a lot better. Oh Tim suspected the trauma would remain for years, how could it not given all she had suffered and at the hands of two men, but at least there was now evidence to show she could live through it and get on with her life despite it.

"You know I love our noodles," Ridley retorted happily, "but dinner in Vegas, that is exciting."

Tim shrugged. "I'm not so sure," he grumbled.

Ridley shook her head at him with a chiding frown. "Calleigh would have loved this," she complained.

"Yes," Tim agreed, "but Calleigh wouldn't offer you a witty commentary on the real Vegas or," he grinned mischievously, "warm the bed quite the way I do."

"Ew Tim!" Ridley gave him a light push before turning back to the mirror sitting on the dresser. She frowned as she smoothed down her deep purple dress and fidgeted with the crystal choker at her neck awkwardly before tugging her dress up and then frowning at the pink scars on her arm. The dress had two straps lined with silvery glitter, and a band of the same silvery glitter around the waist, it was fitted at the top and flowed outward below the waist in gossamer pleats that reached the knees and swished beautifully with every step. It was also low cut at the back, with the straps criss-crossing and ending in a translucent bow just at the waist, exposing some of the pink scars that lingered there. Ridley was deeply regretting the dress; truthfully she'd never even given it much of a glance when she had snatched it up on sale in a shop in Miami just yesterday. She had been urged by a phone call from Calleigh to get something to wear in Vegas. Calleigh had reminded her friend that Vegas was a place of nightclubs and parties after all and if Ridley wanted to blend in she was going to have to make an effort to look the part of a visiting party girl as well as simultaneously appearing as a professional member of the law. As the blonde had advised it should be business suits during the day and dresses at night.

Tim eyed the pale pink scars poking up at her back, and remembered seeing them the very first night they had slept together; minute crescents more prominent where the arch of her bottom began. He had wondered about them even then but not cared enough to pry. Now he knew all about them, though Ridley had never outright said, they were marks left by Hawkes; Tim recognised them for what they were, the telltale signs of nails digging into Ridley's flesh so tightly and so frequently they had left a permanent mark. It made him sick to think of it and he purposely shrugged the image off knowing Ridley would only worry and become self-conscious again if she saw his dark gaze. The worst of it was that some of those scars were more prominent, red rather than pink, he knew they were fresher, from almost a year ago when a man known as the Suburban Legends killer had re-enacted Hawkes' torture on Ridley and then added some of his own sadistic pleasures to it. He had been Hawkes' son though Ridley didn't know and could never know, even now Tim pondered darkly if Ridley had ever suspected or would ever guess at it. Horatio had known just by looking at the man who he was, how had Ridley not? Was it simply something she had dismissed as her own mind playing tricks? Tim didn't know and he didn't want to, he was terrified of the day that his, Horatio's and Eric's deception might surface causing Ridley to fall apart.

He placed a hand just above her waist and stood by her side staring at her in the mirror. "You look beautiful," he said sincerely.

"Thanks, you scrub up well too," she commented happily as she turned and looked up at him with a tender smile, "even if you do look like you hate it."

"And I do," Tim grumbled, "suits make me uncomfortable but hopefully Warrick will stop looking at me like I'm a tramp."

Ridley giggled at this. "Yeah he did keep staring at you and he said you looked different like it was a bad thing, did you get surgery I don't know about?"

Tim frowned down at her. "No," he scorned.

There was a knock on the hotel door. "Are you guys ready?" Horatio called out impatiently.

Ridley wasn't to know it but Horatio had not wanted her and Tim sharing a room, that was something Tim had insisted on, arguing with his superior that he didn't want Ridley alone and, unfairly, appealing to Horatio's guilty and paranoid side. It amused Tim how Horatio almost acted like a firm father figure when it came to Ridley, frowning at her adult relationship with a co-worker, always making a point of knowing where she was at night, in a subtle manner of course, even checking out the areas. Calleigh had actually caught Horatio looking into a bar she had intended to take Ridley out to one weekend, the blonde had thought the redhead had wanted to join them but somehow Tim knew the reality was Horatio had wanted to make sure the place was safe for his girls, or girl rather, as he seemed confident enough in Calleigh's ability to protect herself. Tim knew part of it stemmed from Horatio's guilt over failing to find Ridley when she was a teenager and imprisoned by Hawkes, and then his guilt over breaking his promise to keep her safe from the Suburban Legends killer, but the dark haired man thought part of it was from Horatio's genuine affection for the New Yorker.

"Coming," Ridley called out as she grabbed her purse and hurried to the door.

Horatio had only just returned half an hour ago and taken a hasty shower to dry and banish some of the dusty heat from himself before changing into suitable dinner attire. He had left a couple of hours ago, unwittingly (though Tim was inclined to think otherwise) interrupting Tim helping Ridley out of her shirt. He had frowned when Tim had greeted him at the door unabashedly with the shirt in hand and had sounded just a little irritated when he had informed his co-worker he would be out on business for a short while. Tim and Ridley had assumed he had meant with Catherine, neither of them even speculating that it might be with someone else.

The redhead greeted Ridley with a small smile that didn't quite reach his dark blue eyes as he tried to hide the fact that his day hadn't gone as well as he had hoped. He had met with FBI Agent Matt Harrison, a friend of Horatio's CIA friend Danny Burns, who had informed him bluntly that the problem wasn't just a cop screwing up the cartel's business but that it was a high profile cop who had drawn a lot of unwanted and unnecessary attention to said cartel in Miami, and that the city hadn't exactly stopped talking about it. He had even suggested that media attention was probably the only thing saving Ridley right now as she was too high profile for the cartel to attempt anything just yet but equally they might change their minds and decide to take advantage of her spotlight and send out a clear and bloody message to the public. Agent Harrison had continued to state that the FBI didn't consider Detective Moon to be of any real value and that the only reason he was even obliging Horatio by looking into the matter was due to the good work Horatio's brother Raymond had done within the DEA, and Danny Burns' insistence.

It was all well and good stating that Ridley had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and taken advantage of by a terrified young woman who had not known who she and her friend had been robbing but members of the cartel had been killed and one arrested. The cartel had been denied their vengeance against a girl who had robbed them, they were missing drugs, they had lost men, and one lone detective had publicly embarrassed them. As Agent Harrison had explained it was going to be extremely tough trying to find something they wanted more than Ridley's head. Agent Harrison had also advised Horatio to get the captive cartel member and their witness/survivor, Emily Jenkins, into hiding as soon as possible for obvious reasons.

"Are you okay Horatio?" Ridley pried as she looked up at him inquisitively.

"Fine," he assured, "just hungry. Good work on Speed's tie," he praised mockingly, earning a glower from Tim.

Ridley smiled. "I thought so too," she said proudly as she stepped out of the hotel room. "So where are we going?"

"The Golden Labyrinth," Horatio answered calmly, "it's where Miss van le Rael had dinner the last night she was in town, mother Monqiue wasn't a fan. The best bit was the name Catherine found the reservations under."

"Oh?"

"Alice Liddell," Horatio retorted dryly. "Seems Estella was a fan of the book too."

"That must be why he picked her," Ridley retorted with a mild look of horror. "Poor girl."

* * *

Back in Miami, Calleigh and Eric were carrying out a very important and secretive mission, getting Emily Jenkins to a safe house. The traumatised teenager had just wanted to go home but after being warned that she could be offered no protection from the cartel if she didn't co-operate she had been persuaded to testify against them, in part because of Yelina's kind persuasion tactics and Calleigh's reassurances.

Horatio had not really wanted Calleigh or Eric near the case but they were his ears and eyes while he was out of the city and he trusted Calleigh to see that things went smoothly in his absence. Their cartel member was already in jail, rotting until he was ready to roll, so there was only Emily to secure. The woman had been currently spending time under guard in a hotel but after speaking with Agent Harrison, Horatio had to agree that the city was too dangerous to host the woman until the case went to trial. So, through Calleigh and Frank, the arrangements to see her hidden in a backwater part of Florida no one would think to look was being sorted.

Calleigh was unimpressed that the FBI had not seen fit to intervene and offer the girl witness protection but they didn't deem her evidence enough to bother. She hadn't seen her friend's murder after all and she didn't know names but she knew enough to identify whom she had gotten drugs from and she had pointed out the cartel members who had chased her and Ridley, identifying them as people she had taken drugs from. It was scant but they had to do something, Emily's friend had been brutally tortured before being murdered, innocent people had been gunned down in the streets and the public were calling for justice.

So here they were, just after eight o'clock in the evening, heading towards Santa Cruz coffee house, trying to appear inconspicuous as they headed to meet Emily and Yelina and sneak them into a seemingly unremarkable car that actually had bullet proof, tinted windows. It wasn't an ideal meeting place, too public, too many bystanders at risk, but someone high up the chain had made the call, keep it public and somehow that meant it was a lower risk and an easier job. Just two girlfriends out having coffee and meeting a couple of other friends, soon to disappear from the city without notice.

"Just a couple of hours and this will all be over," Eric remarked cheerfully as he rubbed his palms together. It was proving to be a chilly autumn night, quiet as it was out of season though the coffee house was doing decent enough business. Eric hated the plan and he had been vehemently opposed to it but it had all happened too quickly for him to offer much protest. Frank had objected to him and Calleigh being the ones who picked up Emily and Yelina to drive them from the city but Calleigh had retorted that Frank and his friends just looked too much like cops for the cartel to be thrown. The cartel surely wouldn't suspect CSI agents of being undercover operatives involved in sneaking a key witness from the city, after all that wasn't the usual business for the CSI. That was if they were even watching Calleigh and Eric and knew them for the CSI.

Calleigh nodded grimly as she kept her clear blue gaze on the coffee house before them as they paused to cross a road. 'If only,' she thought wearily, thinking of the reason behind Ridley and Tim going to Vegas with Horatio. The blonde knew they couldn't take anymore and neither could she, she had seen Ridley almost die several times in hospital, watched as she had stopped breathing, as her heart had frozen and her body had turned blue, and she had seen Tim unconscious on a hospital bed, weak and pale as he had almost bled out. Sure she had only known Ridley for just over a year and Tim annoyed her more often than not but they were still her friends and lately they had all been growing closer, they hung out together, they partied together, drank together and sat on the beach together and Calleigh was desperate for that to continue.

"Calleigh you look worried," Eric said softly as he gazed at her with concerned, warm, brown eyes. "I know Horatio only made the call a couple of hours ago but Frank and the others have been prepared for this, the plan was set up days ago, alright not the coffee house specifically but the plan to get Emily out."

"I know," Calleigh said calmly even as her hand brushed against the gun at her hip and she reminded herself that yes, it was definitely fully loaded. "It's not normal protocol for us though Eric," she continued quietly, "I mean this isn't something the CSI normally do."

"I know," Eric repeated as he made himself smile to reassure her, "but come on, it's exciting right? Just think, Tim and Ridley are getting bored with room service and we're out here dodging the cartel."

Calleigh gave a thin smile at that and shook her head. "Yes I'm sure they would be so jealous of us," she commented sardonically.

The pair reached the other side of the road, pausing as they neared the coffee house at last. Tall glass windows and a glass door, it was brightly lit and looking warm and inviting, especially on this cool night. Calleigh counted at least ten customers, three staff and then Yelina and Emily, sitting in a corner booth, almost out of sight, but not quite. The blonde frowned, too visible, how long had they been there?

Eric gripped Calleigh's right hand suddenly and gave it a quick squeeze. "Stay safe Calleigh," he said seriously.

"I will," she retorted with forced confidence, "best shooter in Miami right here."

"I know," he replied even as he continued to look at her firmly, conveying his concern in his stare.

"Promise me a drink once this is all over?" Calleigh quipped hopefully. "And I don't mean coffee."

Eric grinned. "I promise." He finally released her hand and headed to the door. The bell tinkled invitingly as Eric stepped in, followed by Calleigh. It was then that they realised that they had arrived just in time but what neither could guess at in the few seconds of panic before the chaos was whether they had arrived just in time to stop a massacre or be caught up in one.

* * *

Ridley marvelled at the strip as their chauffeured car, courtesy of Las Vegas CSI, drove them through it. It was all lights and buzz just like Miami and New York and yet there was a difference. On its upside Miami oozed sun tanned models, trust fund babies, spring break fools and celebrities trying to sun away from the limelight yet not wanting to be quite out of it yet. New York's upside boasted a class system of students with a cutthroat division, the highest standard of models, designers, artists, and published writers, and a different sort of celebrity, always busy and always seen. On its darker side Miami had the cartel, immigration problems, retired mob bosses, and people and drug trafficking whilst New York's underworld boasted robbery, murder and drugs galore, it had one of the top crime rates in the country, and it was a concrete jungle of wealth and crime mixing company bosses with petty thieves. One tower block could have families who sent their children to private schools and had nannies and maids, whilst another tower block hosted drug dealers and addicts behind broken doors, neighbours to waitresses working long hours just struggling for a life and barmen who thought they could be poets or songwriters all while jamming up against a paper thin wall they could hear a heroin addict's baby howling through.

Vegas though, Vegas was something different. Its problems were neatly hidden underneath, a culture of the homeless hiding with the rats in forgotten sewers. Up above Vegas was a mixture of everything, it welcomed anyone who had a coin to spare and it mixed them together in a melting pot of lights and gambling- models, trust fund babies, tourists, hen parties, stag dos, celebrities big and small, conventions, furries, magicians, cross-dressers, anime lovers, anything and everything, Vegas held its arms open to them all lacking Miami and New York's judgement and scorn. Oh sure, in Miami and New York weird existed and thrived but weird was weird, in Vegas there was no weird, you simply smiled and went 'it's Vegas' to anything that seemed unconventional.

Ridley knew it was all a facade but she was seduced anyway, going wide eyed at the sphinx and black pyramid of the Luxor, the infamous waterworks of Caesar's Palace, the glowing blue ball of Planet Hollywood, the Bellagio's fountains, the miniature Eiffel Tower of Paris Las Vegas, and the glamorous Tangiers.

"Palm trees and lights," Tim remarked sardonically, "not much different from Miami after all."

Their ride finally came to a stop outside a restaurant with a miniature hedge maze leading up to its entrance. Before it several Japanese tourists snapped photos while a hen party dressed as fairies giggled and began to make their way through.

"You have got to be shitting me," Tim complained whilst Horatio thanked their chauffeur.

"Now that's quirky," Ridley commented with delight. She blushed faintly when Tim exited the car and turned and held his hand out to her.

He gave the expected scowl at her surprised look and remarked defensively, "you want a dinner date then fine, we'll have a dinner date, a proper one."

"I guess that makes me the chaperone," Horatio commented innocently.

Tim looked to his superior and felt just a prickle of unease at the stern look the redhead gave him.

"Only until we get to the table," Ridley said cheerfully as she pulled Tim towards the mini maze with a gleam of excitement in her grey-brown gaze. "Then I'm sure we'll be even numbers."

Tim rolled his eyes in despair as they managed to pass Marilyn Munroe, Michael Jackson, Elvis, Godzilla and King Kong all at once. "I guess they don't know Halloween is over," he grumbled.

"Welcome," a man dressed like a medieval squire greeted them chirpily, "can you fine sirs and lady find your way through the maze to the banquet?"

"If we can't do we become Vegas property?" Tim retorted dryly.

The squire looked puzzled before he held out a selection of menus to them. "To stop thou getting discouraged on thy journey, thou mayst browse upon ye delights of ye feast ahead and be inspired to keep going."

"You know ye never meant the," Ridley pointed out helpfully with a smile as she accepted the menus, "there was a letter called a thorn, it looked a bit like a p but printing presses didn't have it so they substituted with a y giving us ye."

"I don't know what's worse," Tim murmured, "his bad English or your knowledge of it."

"Thank you," Horatio addressed the now worried looking squire politely, "I'm sure we will be able to navigate our way without getting discouraged."

"I wish Calleigh was here," Ridley mused as they started walking, "she and Eric would love this."

"Delko would probably get lost," Tim sneered as they bypassed the giggling hen party who were taking photos with a suit of armour and a wooden sign that said 'Turn Ye Back'.

"See that's just inaccurate," Ridley murmured, "either they mean ye to be you or they mean it to be the."

"Okay firstly, this is Las Vegas not medieval England so it doesn't matter, secondly, I highly doubt it's the most inaccurate thing we'll find tonight," Tim commented, "and thirdly, you were just complaining about the misuse of ye as the so be happy the sign means it as you."

"Yes but ye was spelt as ge when meant as you," Ridley argued.

"Is this an interest of yours?" Horatio queried curiously as they found themselves literally walking around in a circle as the maze compelled them to.

Ridley shrugged. "I didn't get a college degree you know," she said coolly, "like all of you, in fact I barely finished high school, then I went to the city and worked full-time in a museum whilst studying criminology at night. I learnt about Old English at the museum, I left when I got into NYPD and I got my criminology course. People used to make fun because I didn't have much of an education but I was able to impress them sometimes with the stuff I learnt at the museum. Anyway, it's why I decided to study to be qualified with the CSI too, put all of you college graduates in your place," she finished with a slightly smug nod. "Well that and I found it quite interesting," she admitted quietly.

"You never mentioned that," Tim murmured with a slight frown, "I mean I knew you didn't go to college and that you had CSI training, obviously, but I didn't know you worked in a museum."

"Well I don't know where you were before Miami," Ridley pointed out.

"New York actually," Tim confessed, "I grew up in Jamaica, Queens."

Ridley laughed. "Wow Tim you and Horatio are both New Yorkers at heart!" She grinned up at them both. "Do Calleigh and Eric know your secret shame? Are they aware that you're both, hmm what is it Eric calls me, oh yes- a short tempered, yellow taxi loving Northerner or a fasting talking bagel lover, or-"

"Yes, Delko and Calleigh know I'm from there," Tim interrupted.

They paused when they found themselves face to face with a row of distorted mirrors set in the hedge maze and Ridley flinched, this was a little too familiar. She eyed the scars on her right arm distastefully before gripping Tim's left hand suddenly and leaning into him. She could smell his blood anew as she recalled what had followed the Hall of Mirrors and the tiger, the sight of Tim on the ground, whiter than chalk as his chest seemed to bloom blood.

"Something wrong?" he quipped as he looked down at her in confusion.

"No," she assured as she shook her head.

"It's just an illusion," Horatio remarked reassuringly. He knew what memory the mirrors had invoked, unlike Tim he knew where Ridley had been before she had found Tim on the ground with a bullet in his chest. "Come on or we'll be late for dinner."

They kept going, meeting several more hopeful diners and bypassing a small, fake moat with an animatronic crocodile in it, a fake tower, and three doors all promising salvation before popping open to revealing mocking birds that sprung out with caws and laughter, startling several young men and women as they did.

At last they reached the queue and the entrance of gold tinted glass with a sign above it reading 'The Golden Labyrinth'. They reached a woman dressed as a medieval maid, at least that's what Ridley supposed, and Horatio gave over Catherine Willows' name.

"Ah yes, table 83," the woman said as her fingertip paused on a computer screen. She turned behind her and called over another squire with the authentic name of Donny. "Donny take these sirs and lady to table 83," she instructed.

"This way please," Donny said as he gave them a yellow toothed smile. He was a spotty male in his early twenties with scruffy, brown hair and an unwashed appearance that Horatio didn't think was part of the theme of lowly squire.

The restaurant was huge and every table was surrounded by a fake, soft, green hedge like back whilst the smooth floor had a pattern on it that was meant to mimic pebbles. There were also confusing arrows, paw prints and footprints on the floor, fake topiaries that resembled animals, false trees with colourful arrows on them pointing in all directions and torches on the walls with fake, fluttering flames.

"I think I hate this place," Tim murmured as they passed several squires, wenches and knights before finally reaching a large, round table just behind a topiary of a unicorn.

Seated at the table were Catherine, Warrick and Nick, who had the grace to look apologetic as he glanced up at Ridley and purposely avoided Tim's unpleasant stare.

Catherine stood up revealing a stunning, fitted, gold sequined dress that stopped short daringly close to her waist revealing her enviable, long, tanned legs. Her hair was down in natural looking waves that had probably taken hours to achieve, her skin vibrant with the natural golden glow of Vegas' sun, not freckled or spotted thanks to good care and rarely seeing the burning sun thanks to working night shift, and her make-up was subtle and flattering, blush at the cheeks, gold dust on the eyelids, and gloss on her thin lips. She was stunning and whilst it looked effortless Ridley knew enough about hair, clothes and make-up to know that the older woman had put in a lot of time and effort.

'Who's she trying to impress?' the New Yorker pondered. 'All of us or just one?' She glanced up at Horatio out of the corner of her eye and stifled a giggle as she noted the awkward, flustered look he was trying to subdue, it was the same look he had given Nina and Yelina on numerous occasions.

Catherine faltered, meaning to give a big, confident smile but when she saw Horatio in an expensive dinner suit all she managed was the small, shy smile akin to a blushing schoolgirl. The redhead certainly did know how to wear a suit well unlike his fussing, dark haired companion who was tugging at the tails of his own jacket and smoothing down non-existent wrinkles on his sleeves.

"Welcome to the table," Catherine greeted at last, "please sit down."

Catherine was beside Warrick who was opposite Nick, and gestured pointedly to the seat beside her, which Horatio took leaving Ridley to occupy the seat beside Nick as she feared Tim exchanging a few more heated words with the Texan if he took the chair. Tim, unimpressed with Ridley choosing to sit beside the undeniably attractive, muscular Vegas CSI, sat down with a scowl and stared at the table pointedly.

"I asked Chris to come," Catherine said to Ridley gently, "as you requested but he never really gave me a response one way or another, just said he would check his work schedule."

Ridley smiled back gratefully and nodded. "That's okay, Uncle Chris was never a fan of fancy restaurants," she murmured as she glanced about. It was easy to get caught up in the noise, the crowds and the design, and the detective struggled to remind herself that they were meant to be here on business.

"Oh you guys will appreciate this," Catherine said suddenly with a warm smile at Horatio, "Warrick show them the photo you dug up."

Warrick nodded as he hunted through his pocket for something before tugging out a crinkled Polaroid and pushing it towards Horatio, glancing slightly at Tim as he did. He had went to a lot of effort to hunt for it, needing to prove to himself that he was right about the Miami traces expert, even Catherine agreeing with him wasn't enough, he had needed to actually see it again to believe it.

"Well," Horatio mused with a small smile, "look at that."

"Case closed for Miami and Las Vegas," Catherine murmured, "and a nice present for Grissom since he was eager to see what our Florida counterparts looked like."

Horatio turned the Polaroid round and pushed it towards Ridley and Tim. "I'd say we've all changed, but definitely you most of all Speed," he commented teasingly.

"Thank you," Warrick murmured aloud without meaning to, earning an odd look from the Miami trio.

Ridley looked down at the photograph with both amusement and surprise. It depicted Catherine, Warrick, Tim, Horatio, Calleigh and Eric all standing side by side bathed in the golden Miami sun and looking satisfied as they faced the camera, all their stares hidden by shades. Catherine had shorter, blonder hair; Warrick's afro was shorter, Horatio's hair seemed browner and Calleigh's blonde mane was longer but Tim was definitely the one who looked the most different. Tim's hair was shorter than Eric's, barely an inch long, close to the scalp, and neat and tidy with a fringe, it was decidedly un-Tim as was the clean, smooth shaven chin, the white polo neck and the grey trousers.

"Brilliant," Tim grumbled bitingly as he shoved the Polaroid back across the table to Warrick with only the briefest glance down at it.

"You did look different," Ridley murmured as she looked at him questioningly.

"You look different in those photographs with Silver," Tim pointed out coldly.

"Tim," Horatio was quick to chide.

"Okay," Ridley murmured as she opened up her menu and immediately busied herself with it.

They ordered after ten minutes and while they were eating their starters Nick brought some humour back to the table by telling Ridley and Horatio about catching former lab rat Greg Sanders channelling his inner showgirl as he had paraded about the lab wearing an infamous showgirl's glittering headdress blissfully unaware of his audience.

When their main courses arrived they finally talked about the case.

"According to the staff Estella was here with five friends," Catherine explained, "on the Thursday from seven until half eight roughly, they had a main course and dessert, put it all on Estella's credit card and then left. No one noticed anything out of the ordinary and we haven't picked up anything unusual on the cameras but you're welcome to check, they've already been secured for the lab."

"Good," Horatio enthused. "And did the staff know who she really was?"

"Of course," Catherine retorted, "asides from the pseudonym being an obvious fake, people all over Vegas knew Estella as Monique van le Rael's daughter. No one recognised her friends though, you can see on the footage but they weren't exactly classy looking people and I don't think any of them went to Miami."

"What kind of people were they?" Ridley questioned.

"Scruffy, pasty, weirdly dressed," Warrick mused.

"They looked like punks," Nick continued, "you know, kids with bad piercings and tattoos who are clearly into underage drinking and probably drugs too. I doubt they'd have gotten in here if not for Estella."

"A double life?" Horatio wondered aloud.

"Drugs," Ridley repeated carefully as she met her superior's gaze, "think she got some from our friend?"

"It's a possibility," the redhead admitted.

They finished their meal amicably, Ridley and Nick making amends as Ridley joked about Sleepy Hollow and her numerous pranks there. They shared stories about bad Halloween jokes, and Nick confessed to being a fan of the Sleepy Hollow movie though horror wasn't really his thing. All the while Tim sat in a moody silence, quietly simmering as Ridley seemed to spend more time facing Nick than him.

At the end of the meal, once the bill was split and paid, Tim didn't bother waiting for a lingering chat, instead he stood up pointedly earning a look of irritation from Horatio.

"Eager to go?" Catherine quipped lightly. "Well we're all off tomorrow, courtesy of Vegas wanting to show Miami a good time. How about a drink?"

"I'm tired," Tim muttered.

"Of what, the company?" Warrick queried dryly.

Tim shot him a glower of annoyance but held back a sardonic retort.

"Warrick," Catherine scolded calmly though she kept her gaze on Tim.

"Sorry but he's been moody since he got here," Warrick said, letting his own annoyance show. "You were fun in Miami, what the hell happened?"

"Life," Tim answered sarcastically.

"Detective Speedle," Horatio addressed him coolly, letting his own frustration with the man show, "if you want to retire for the evening that's fine, we can regroup tomorrow."

"Good," Tim answered bluntly before he looked to Ridley expectantly.

Ridley looked up at him questioningly before her gaze hardened slightly at his scowl. "I want to see more of Vegas," she admitted.

"Fine," Tim snapped, "new city, new cop, that's your thing, I'm sure Nick will give you a good, personal tour." He turned and stormed off before Ridley could even react to his implication.

Ridley sat at the table in shock, her face white as she tried and failed to digest the insult.

Horatio gave the young detective a sympathetic look and murmured, "let's see Vegas Ridley."

* * *

 _I had so much fun writing this chapter! Yes, I know, I'm so mean but I had to give you some EC, better than none at all, right? I realise Tim's character probably changed between Cross Jurisdictions and Golden Parachute simply because characters do change from pilots but I prefer creating an explanation :-) I also like evolving on Ridley and H's complicated relationship as I imagine H as being somewhat overprotective of Ridley as he's trying to overcompensate for failing her, and at the same time he feels she's owed a lot of happiness and he's not sure if Tim's really offering that plus he's starting to realise Ridley doesn't really have family and he feels he's somewhat similar._

 _Plus I love the Vegas team so much and hope I'm doing their cameo here and characters justice._


	19. Chapter 18- Sin, Guilt, Regret and Fun

His head was pounding, his ears were blocked with a low ringing that dominated all other sound, his eyes burned with dust and he was acutely aware that his flesh felt like it was burning and damp in places. Yet for all his problems there was one that stood out at the front of Eric Delko's mind- where was Calleigh?

He had felt the wrongness the moment he had stepped into the cafe, and had cursed himself for not noticing it when they had been outside looking in. Yelina's face had tightened, her eyes had become fixated on one man, not too close yet close enough, her hand had twitched towards her gun and then suddenly pandemonium had broken out.

Eric pushed himself up from the shattered porcelain and glass, not even noticing how his palms were cut to bloody ribbons with the effort. He looked about anxiously, blinking hard to clear his eyes as he did. Where was she? Damnit if something had happened! 'Shit man you didn't tell her, you didn't let her know!' he thought in frustration. His heart was hammering fast but it wasn't fear, it was worry and uncertainty. He didn't care about himself, even the blur of people moving in the debris crying were only a minor factor, Calleigh, where the hell was she?

He caught a blur of long, blonde hair whipping through the air to his right and turned. She was there, moving, alive! She hastened to her feet, gun out and aimed, Eric followed her stare as he fumbled to pull out his own gun. 'Shit! Shit! Shit!' He moved as quickly as he could but it just didn't seem fast enough.

BANG! BANG! Eric's eyes widened as Calleigh suddenly twisted back with a wince. He started firing angrily with a cry of rage. BANG! BANG! The perpetrator went down, the straggler who, as Eric dumbly realised, had stayed to finish them off.

"Calleigh!" He rushed towards the blonde and extended out a hand as he looked at the growing bloodstain on her white pants' leg.

"I'm okay," she said with a wince as she looked to the motionless man on the floor, "God damnit they took her Eric!" She turned and looked to her companion at last, her blue eyes going wide at his bloody and bruised appearance. "Are you okay?!" she exclaimed.

"I'm fine," he assured with a nod and a faint smile. "What about Yelina?"

They searched through the cafe warily as Eric finally became aware of the song of police sirens and the blue and red lights flashing outside, help was here but for a few poor customers it was far too late. They had used a smoke bomb, then a minor explosion and in the chaos they had grabbed Emily and bolted, leaving two members behind to eliminate their would be pursuers. Eric noted that the second shooter was dead also, bent over a table awkwardly with a clean hole in his skull. He followed the path of the bullet and spied Yelina at last, in a crouch with her gun out in her right hand, her face angry and bloodied as she clutched at a wound with her free hand.

'What a mess,' Eric thought numbly as he hastened towards Yelina. 'We screwed up bad, people are dead and they got the girl...' He couldn't even think about what the cartel were liable to do to poor Emily Jenkins.

* * *

Neon lights, water features, women in bikinis dancing in cages, confetti, people in tanks performing acrobatic feats and four dizzying floors. Neptune's Palace wasn't well named but the theme was definitely there, there were two entrances, one with a complimentary soaking from an arch of taps above and one that just gave the illusion of it with neon blue lights, after that it was a maze of bars, dance floors, tables and more as music pumped out of every floor. It had nothing to do with the case but after lingering in a shady bar with a gothic theme that Estella had visited for a couple of drinks, Catherine has insisted on stalling the case until the morning and brightening up the mood. Nick had heartily agreed, reminding Ridley that she did want to see Vegas and that Catherine had all but promised them a show.

So here they were in a club Warrick had gotten them VIP access into with one quick phone call, the CSI claimed the owner owed him a favour after he had helped him out of a sticky situation. He had taken care to emphasise the word 'sticky' and jested about whipped cream, furry handcuffs and photographs being involved.

Nick and Warrick had practically dragged Ridley under the waterworks entrance whilst Catherine had shaken her head and grumbled about her dress until her wistful look had persuaded Horatio to offer her his jacket before he escorted her after the younger CSIs. Inside they had immediately gotten the eerie feeling of being underwater as the floor had a clever ripple effect on it thanks to expensive projections and the walls equally quivered with blue lights. There were half broken statues of the sea god Neptune, columns, mermaids and mermen. The centre piece of the room was a fountain with a huge golden chariot with two Hippocampus rearing up at the front of it, and Neptune standing in it with a raised trident that water spurted from. Everywhere they looked there were crowds and for a moment the effect was dizzying.

It was now after midnight and they had been in the club for over an hour, Nick and Warrick had insisted on taking Ridley onto the dance floor making a noticeable effort to cheer her up and even scorning her for looking at her phone too many times. Now they were back at the VIP table Catherine and Horatio occupied on the top floor taking a moment to rest and have some drinks.

Ridley toyed with her champagne glass as she sat on the edge of the cream, leather seats that were meant to resemble open clam shells. She took a deep sip before tugging out her phone and glancing down at it with a frown, three messages, all from Tim. The first was simply, 'where are you', the second was, 'seriously Ridley, where are you? I want to talk' and the third, the third was typical bitter Tim, 'fine, I hope you're having fun'. Ridley scowled angrily at the last message before she snapped the phone closed and shoved it back into her bag. Let him wonder, she knew it was petty not to reply especially given their pact to never ignore the other's text message but he had gone too far and if he was really concerned he could text Horatio couldn't he?

"So, Chris' niece?" Warrick queried bluntly. "And what's it like having an uncle who takes photos of bodies for scrapbooking?"

Ridley smiled and shook her head at that before taking another deep gulp. Uncle Chris, there was an awkward subject. "I feel about that how he probably feels about having a niece who's from Sleepy Hollow and whose birthday is on Halloween," she answered coyly.

"Halloween? Seriously?" Nick marvelled with a grin.

Ridley nodded even as she giggled.

"That's...unusual," Warrick commented carefully.

"No, that's awesome," Nick enthused.

Ridley shrugged. "It has its perks," she retorted happily before finishing her glass swiftly. She stood up and just managed to avoid a stumble as the bubbles hastened to her head. She knew it was unprofessional but it wasn't like anyone was telling her to stop or frowning at her and anyway, she damn well needed this. 'Thanks Tim,' she thought angrily, 'for dragging me right back to that place.'

"You know you're pretty fun," Warrick said with a small smile, "how exactly do you keep company with Speedle?"

"Yeah," Nick said with a slightly serious look as he grasped onto the subject he had wanted to mention most of the night. "Are you guys together? Because seriously, what he said at the table, what an asshole, I mean you can't be with a guy like that. What did he even mean by it?"

"Um..." Ridley looked awkward before she turned back to the table and seized another glass.

Horatio didn't even notice as he was occupied with Catherine's oddly infectious laugh. There was a small voice in his head that told him he should be keeping an eye on how much Ridley was drinking but a larger voice reminded him sternly that he wasn't her father, she was an adult and she probably needed this. "Sorry," he said apologetically to the blonde when he felt his phone buzz against his pocket. He tugged it out and put on an admirable poker face as 'Speed' flashed up on his screen. He opened the message and read it, 'H, I know I fucked up okay but where are you guys?'

'How eloquent,' Horatio thought dryly as he wondered if Ridley wasn't the only one trying to block out dinner with drink.

"We're dating," Ridley confessed to the Las Vegas pair at last before she took another deep sip, "but it's a little complicated. And that remark about the tour, just forget it, please," she added with a pleading look as her cheeks turned a dusky red.

Both Warrick and Nick frowned, and Nick folded his arms and looked at her curiously. "Okay seriously, why are you dating him?" he queried. Nick kept his voice light, trying to tell himself that he had only met this woman and this wasn't his business but Nick couldn't help it, when it came to people he was quick to empathise. It didn't help that Ridley seemed nice enough and that the pain in her eyes cut right through him and made him feel a deep annoyance towards Tim for causing it even though he hardly knew Tim either.

"Guy doesn't dress right," Warrick remarked bluntly, "so it can't be his fashion sense."

"He's got a bad attitude problem," Nick murmured, "I mean I don't get his remark but...well I think we all noticed that it hurt you."

Ridley blushed again at the remark and looked a little startled as she met his deep, dark eyes. 'You could get lost in those eyes,' she thought dumbly. 'Tim always has a spark in his eyes, even when he's grumpy there's a hint of humour there, just below the surface.'

"He...got me through a lot of pain," Ridley confessed softly.

"Okay, let me put it this way," Nick said seriously , "if I were with a woman like you I'd be here in the club dancing with you and making damn sure no one else could grab you up."

"Thanks," Ridley said sincerely with a small smile, "but you don't have to do that. It's Tim's problem, he can deal with it, I'm here to see Vegas, remember?"

"Right, well a big part of Vegas is the dance floors," Nick answered enthusiastically as he held out a hand to her.

Ridley accepted with another giggle as she swallowed down a pang of despair and the rest of the champagne. 'Tim hates dancing,' she reminded herself, 'so you'd only be missing out if he was here. Still, I miss his commentary on people's idea of fashion and the way he'll awkwardly try to half-dance on the outskirts of the dance floor when he's been drinking because he knows I like to dance.'

* * *

Tim sucked on his fourth cigarette of the night as he sat on the edge of a low wall and scowled down at his phone. Eric had yet to reply to his text message confessing how he had blown it, Ridley was blatantly ignoring him, which made him realise just how badly he had screwed up, even when mad she usually replied to him, and now he was waiting on Horatio deciding whether to get back to him or not. He had ended up in a bar, a terrible cliché but he had definitely needed it in his opinion, what he had not needed were the members of the hen party who had tried to chat him up. Oh sure they had been pretty girls but all he wanted was Ridley back beside him.

He hadn't meant to say what he had said, easy thinking that now of course but it was true. It was just that Nick, well Nick was taller, Nick was more muscular, Nick was handsome in a model like way and Nick smiled and was charming and friendly and Nick probably didn't get flashbacks of getting a bullet to the chest. Nick probably wouldn't flinch if an idiot in a rabbit mask tried to shoot him. Worse, all the Nick shit was just the icing on the cake for Tim; why in the hell did Warrick have to bring that photograph out? Tim you're so different, Tim you used to be friendly. 'Yeah I was different,' he thought moodily, 'I wasn't me but she liked me better that way, what if Ridley would like that Tim better too? She's probably fed up with grumpy, traumatised Tim who's too busy with his own nightmares to console her over hers.'

"Shit!" he exclaimed angrily as he stubbed out the cigarette and flicked it onto the ground. He opened his phone and decided to text someone else, someone who was probably in bed but who at least usually had time for him no matter how dumb the problem. 'Hey Alexx...I fucked up with Ridley, again. I don't know why I had to do it but I did, I said something nasty to her and...shit I don't think she'll forgive me for this one. They were talking about earlier...fuck they even had a photograph, all that time ago when...well when I had short hair and smarter clothes and acted like a happy little dick because it made her happy, you know...when I was with Megan. Fuck, sorry for swearing but, was I better like that? Was I nicer to know?'

He hesitated momentarily over the send button before pressing it hard, standing up and then heading into another bar. It was easier to text, he knew despite how drunk he was getting if he phoned Alexx the words wouldn't come out, Tim wasn't one for verbal confessions but texting, that was all too easy sometimes, it was impersonal, you didn't have to see the look of shock or disgust you were getting to your confession.

Three whiskey shots later and Alexx and Horatio finally replied. Tim, as he lingered over his fourth shot, looked at Alexx's message first with bleary eyes and realised that he had been stupid to expect sympathy. The message read, 'Timmy you are a fool. How did you manage this one? If you want to be with Ridley, be with Ridley and if you don't, don't but you and that girl have jerked each other around enough for a lifetime, it has to stop. And don't give me your self-pity act; I know that means you have been drinking. Believe me I'll be talking to Horatio about watching you kids better! I love you Timmy, even when you're pulling crap like this and I already told you, Megan made you someone else, it was manipulation, you are who you are and that's who I love and I suspect who Ridley loves too but you're going to have to ask her about that one. What exactly did you say anyway?'

Tim smiled bitterly as he attempted to send a reply, in the end it only became readable thanks to auto-correct and read, 'I more or less told her to fuck a Vegas cop. I'm awesome, right?' He hit send, finished the shot and finally read Horatio's text. The redhead was brief but polite, 'we're at Neptune's Palace, you are welcome to join us Tim but no more insulting Ridley.'

There was a sober voice inside Tim that said Horatio had every right to text what he had, in fact he had a right to be a lot more scolding but unfortunately the whiskey won out and Tim went with the eloquent reply of 'fuck you'. Only after he hit the send button did the voice in his head grow slightly louder and assure him this was something else he would be regretting.

* * *

Horatio looked down at his phone and sighed before giving Catherine an apologetic smile.

"Detective Speedle need you?" Catherine guessed calmly as her eyes glimmered with a hint of annoyance.

"Afraid so," Horatio retorted dryly before he turned his deep blue gaze on the dance floor where some dance craze from the 90s was being re-enacted.

"We could escort Detective Moon back to your hotel later if you want to spare her the drama," Catherine offered helpfully.

"I do want to spare her," Horatio admitted, "but I can't I..." He trailed off, unsure what to admit about his complicated relationship with Ridley.

"Need to keep her in your sights," Catherine finished calmly as she leaned into him to be better heard. She smiled when he looked to her curiously. "Normally you're a closed book Horatio but I've noticed how you haven't let Ridley out of your sight all night." She gave him a serious look. "You know I read about what happened to her in Miami, at least what the press released, although rumour round work says it was a lot worse, and you couldn't have prevented that."

"I could have," he retorted quietly as he held Catherine's gaze, "I let her out of my sight and she walked straight into a trap."

"Horatio I've worked with you and I know it couldn't have been so simple."

Horatio stood up. "Well anyway, much as I'd rather avoid a reconciliation between her and Tim tonight I need to find him and I can't leave her."

Catherine hastened to stand too. "I'd like to say you should let Detective Speedle sweat it out but I get it, if it were one of mine I'd go after them too, strange city and all that. We will all go, we would be poor hosts not to accompany you safely to your hotel," she said firmly.

"Alright, and thank you Catherine," the redhead replied sincerely with a small smile.

Catherine couldn't help but smile back, there was something sweet about the redhead's brief, minute grins, he smiled in a subtle fashion that made Catherine feel as if it was something to be earned.

It took Catherine a couple of minutes to find Ridley and the others and then it took them twenty minutes more to get their coats, leave the club and wrangle a taxi big enough for six passengers. By then Horatio had gotten Tim's location out of him via a phone call and also given the traces expert stern instructions to keep quiet and to sleep on the couch in Horatio's room without a fuss. The redhead contemplated that Ridley might not feel safe in the hotel room by herself and decided if that was the case he would occupy the couch in her and Tim's room.

It took them close to half an hour to reach Tim. The dark haired man was sitting on the edge of a fountain, half-slouched over, head bowed and a cigarette burning out in his left hand. Horatio exited the taxi and approached him wordlessly before hastening him into the middle row of the taxi between himself and Catherine. Tim said nothing and didn't so much as glance at the three passengers behind him. Instead Tim burrowed his hands through his dark hair and placed his head in his lap, and remained like that for the rest of the journey.

"Good night Catherine," Horatio said politely once they arrived at their hotel, "and thanks for a good evening."

"Our pleasure," Catherine enthused as she leaned past Tim.

"Night guys," Ridley remarked cheerfully to Warrick and Nick, "and thanks for a good night."

"No problem, it was fun," Warrick retorted calmly.

"Yeah, I hope you liked the tour," Nick said with a small smile. He knew it was a cheap shot but he felt it was worth the grunt of disgust Tim gave.

Ridley gave a soft smile at that but resisted the urge to retort and irk Tim further, even though he deserved it. Instead she slipped out of the taxi and scurried towards the hotel doors. She waited in the lobby for Horatio and a stumbling Tim but said nothing when they reached her.

"Speed's going to sleep on the couch in my room tonight," Horatio explained to her as she hit the button for a lift.

Ridley nodded dismissively.

"Are you alright with that?" the redhead pried with a serious look as the lift binged and the doors opened.

"Fine," Ridley answered coolly as she stepped into the lift.

It didn't take long for them to reach their rooms and head to bed. Ridley hurried into hers without a glance at Tim or a word to either of the men, the fury clear on her face. Horatio headed to his room quietly, abandoning Tim to the living room trusting that the younger CSI would eventually find his way to the couch.

* * *

It was to a rosy, hot Vegas morning that Tim awoke with a dry mouth, a pounding headache, a gurgling stomach and what he was certain was the worst hangover of his life. He opened his bloodshot eyes slowly and felt only a tinge of relief that the dark blue curtains were mercifully closed. It took him a moment to take in his surroundings and it was only when he tried to turn and rolled onto the floor with a loud bang and several loud curses that he realised he had in fact been sleeping on a couch.

As the traces expert clutched his pounding skull with one hand and made a half-hearted effort to sit up he realised the next question was where exactly was he? A hotel room yes, but which one? He had a blurred image of Ridley and Horatio but wasn't entirely sure whose room he had staggered into. After his stomach gave a loud groan he realised he no longer cared whose quarters it was, just where the bathroom was.

Ten minutes and several mouthfuls of vomit later and Tim staggered back into the living room, pale faced, sweaty and looking more than a little worse for wear. 'And Warrick thought I looked like shit yesterday,' he thought sarcastically to himself as he stumbled through the room looking for a hint as to who occupied it. The main clock read just after nine and he wondered if the occupant was even up. Deciding to risk it, he hunted for the main bedroom and found the door ajar and the room empty. Seeing one single, neat, brown bag he realised with a wash of embarrassment that it was Horatio's hotel suite he had passed out in.

After scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, Tim tugged out his phone and saw a message from Horatio saying, 'Speedle, I'm having breakfast in the lobby, Ridley is still in bed, don't disturb her.' He cringed awkwardly when he saw that his last message to Horatio had been rather expletive. "Shit," he murmured aloud. He rubbed his face briefly, let out a groan and glanced at the time of the message, just twenty minutes ago. 'Well I'm already in trouble, may as well keep going,' he thought to himself as he headed out of the room and promptly knocked on the door beside it.

After three more loud knocks Ridley finally answered the door, ashen faced and baggy eyed with a complimentary nightgown slung over last night's dress. Her hair was down in a messy tangle and her make-up was looking a little faded and smeared now, the raccoon eyes giving away the fact that she had been crying. She took one look at Tim and immediately slammed the door in his face.

"Ridley," he called as he knocked the door again, "come on! Ridley, I'm going to keep making noise until you open up," he threatened as he continued knocking.

She opened the door once more and gave him such a hateful glare that he actually flinched. "Whatever you have to say I don't want to hear it," she snapped at him in a low voice, "you said enough last night and I'm done Tim."

"I deserve that," Tim said with a guilty look as he entered the room, "and I shouldn't have said what I said but-"

"No buts Tim," Ridley interrupted sharply, "you knew what I went through with the shrink, all the accusations about me...using cops, then you sling it in my face, and act like...like I'm slut! Well fuck you Tim okay, fuck you! You can get off your pedestal you know, you waited weeks before you moved on from me, just weeks before you started sleeping with someone you hardly knew, at least I knew the men I fucked! God..." She shook her head angrily. "I thought we were past all this petty shit, I thought you didn't think I used you and that you understood why Justin even if you didn't approve, I was scared Tim not horny! You know what, it doesn't matter, you said yourself I've backed off too many times, well you've insulted me too many times, I think we can conclude this isn't working out and it's not going to."

"Ridley don't," he pleaded. "I got insecure over Nick, I admit it, because well Christ all you have to do is look at the guy, he's attractive, he's healthy, he's charming, he's friendly, and he's probably not having nightmares about a guy in a rabbit mask or suffering paranoia over getting shot. He's probably not dumb enough to let you walk into danger either, Hell he's the type who would never let you out of his sight, he could protect you, I couldn't and it eats me up."

"That's pathetic Tim," Ridley snapped crossly, "I've never made you feel that kind of inadequacy or guilt and it sure as shit doesn't give you the right to rip me up the way you did last night. Nor is it everything, you've been odd ever since we got here and anytime Warrick talks about before, you go quiet or angry. You know I don't even care what the hell your problem is anymore, I don't have the energy but nothing gave you the right to...to fuck me up again." Her eyes burned with tears and she rubbed at them fiercely with a scowl. "I've spent so many months trying to justify my actions you know, I told you that, about my insecurities over...over the idea of my cop hero and in a single sentence you demean it, act like my problem is that I just sleep around, our entire relationship and you act like it was just a fling for me, like I could just drop you and pick up with someone I hardly know. You said you loved me and yet you think so little of me."

"I...Ridley it's me I think so little of right now, and no, I'm not trying to throw a pity party here I'm just trying to explain. I got insecure so I tried to put that on you and act like you had the problem not me. I didn't think for one second that you were going to go off with Nick or anyone else and I don't think you sleep around with cops, I just...I was angry and you were happy and having a good time and I resented that so I had to be a dick and ruin it. It is completely pathetic I know, I should have supported you actually having fun for a change and instead I tried to drag you down to my mood, I was miserable and I wanted you to be miserable too."

She slapped him hard causing him to give a moan of pain and grasp his cheek with a wince. All he could think sardonically was that at least she hadn't punched him yet.

"Well congratulations, you got what you wanted," she retorted bitingly. "Look, I'm going to get washed, we have business to do here in case you've forgotten." She turned away from him and when he grabbed her right arm and turned her back the punch came at last.

"Fuck!" Tim was quick to curse as her fist caught him hard up the jaw. He released her to clutch at his jaw with both hands before glowering at her. His brown gaze was quick to soften into guilt as he saw the tears flowing down her cheeks. "Okay I deserved that," he grumbled as he released his jaw at last and swallowed down a mouthful of blood.

"Just leave me alone," Ridley said tiredly before she started walking off to the bathroom.

"No," Tim snapped as he hastened after her, "because I left you alone last time and it just went on. Look I fucked up, I'll say it again and again, I'm sorry, more sorry than you know and I love you and I know I hurt you and I know our relationship has been far from easy but damn it Ridley do you really not want a relationship?"

She glanced back him with a fresh look of anger. "Don't dare," she choked out as she swallowed down a sob, "don't act like it's me ending this by myself. You humiliated me and of all the things to say...then you left, you left Tim, you made that choice."

"And I regretted it and I tried to find out where you were," he protested. "Ridley it was a mistake, a big one but it was a mistake. Please, I got shot okay and I'm fucking terrified of it happening again, I'm scared and I'm tired and I'm angry because I'm scared and then Warrick frigging talks about the old me, this happy, outgoing prick and all I keep thinking is, shit was that better? Was I more likeable? Would Ridley like that guy more? Because someone else liked that guy more, and that guy wasn't real, that guy was something I pretended to be because I was stupid and in love. So I got angry thinking about all that, about how I wasn't good enough for Warrick, and I wasn't good enough for you and I just wanted to leave and I wanted you to leave with me so you wouldn't hear anymore about the false me or realise that Nick's a nicer guy than me and a better CSI, and shit, I lashed out and it wasn't fair."

Ridley looked at him in stunned silence before shaking her head. "Tim you really think so little of me," she said sorrowfully, "to believe that I would like a different you or that someone else's opinion of you would sway mine." She hurried to the bathroom and was swift to close the door and lock it.

Tim grumbled a curse before heading to the bedroom, wondering what the hell he was going to do now.

Almost an hour later found both Ridley and Tim washed and dressed. Before they could have another uncomfortable discussion the door knocked. Ridley opened it to a pallid Horatio. "What's wrong?" she was quick to ask.

"Calleigh, Eric and Yelina," he answered darkly, "there was an incident in Miami."


	20. Chapter 19- Death in the Desert

"Hi."

Horatio glanced up from his seat on the hard, hot, concrete ground to Ridley who was clutching two Styrofoam cups and looking a little uncomfortable. They were at the LVPD lot where they had spent most of the day going between the crime lab and the police department. At first it had been a frustrating waiting game and many, many calls between Vegas and Miami but once it finally became clear that Calleigh, Eric and Yelina were all going to live, Ridley and Tim finally turned their focus on the Wonderland case. Tim went with Sarah and Greg, probably the only two members of the Vegas CSI team who didn't have a disliking for him, whilst Ridley went off with Warrick and Nick.

It had been a long day and Tim and Ridley had protested about working on the case and argued about returning to Miami but Horatio had been firm that they stayed in the city and assured them that their friends were fine and wanted them working on the case. It was only when Calleigh verbally told Ridley down the phone to keep on the case that the New Yorker was assured enough to give in, albeit grudgingly.

Now it was almost half five and Ridley had finally returned to the lab after an interesting day meeting some of Estella's acquaintances and seeing the hotel she had been staying in whilst Tim had visited some of her last known locations. It had taken a while before Ridley had finally learned that Horatio was outside taking his first break of the day. Catherine had murmured scornfully that the man hadn't eaten so much as a biscuit and she didn't even think he had bothered with a toilet break all day.

He was sitting on the edge of a kerb, knees half-drawn up whilst he quietly observed the bustle of the LVPD through his shades. Ridley took a seat beside him and held out one of the cups. "Coffee," she said calmly.

Horatio accepted the cup with a grateful nod.

"It's not your fault you know," the young woman said as she stared ahead.

"What?" he quipped curiously.

"Calleigh, Eric and Yelina, what happened, it's not your fault," Ridley remarked seriously. "I know you think it is because you're their superior and you probably knew about the situation they were putting themselves in and you weren't there but they chose to do it and you couldn't have known what would happen."

"They're CSIs, and I asked them to do something CSIs don't," Horatio murmured, "so it is my fault and my responsibility. I also know exactly how dangerous the cartel is and I knew what could happen but I allowed Calleigh and Eric to help with Emily anyway because I was here and couldn't do it." He gave a low sigh of annoyance.

"Look, I've...I've blamed you for a lot," Ridley confessed quietly, "because it was easy to do but you're not to blame Horatio, not for what happened to me and not for what's happened to them." She trailed off awkwardly, setting her cup on the ground beside her and instinctively hugging herself briefly to still the twitch in her hands that threatened to turn into a tremble. "You let me blame you," she continued you softly, "it annoyed me at first, I wanted you to make it harder you know, I wanted you to argue back so I could scream at you and hate you more but you didn't, you never do, you're just quiet and agreeable and then it's just one sided yelling and I feel like a fool..." She gave a sad smile at this. "You're not to blame though, you didn't know I was out there and you couldn't know what would happen in Miami."

Horatio pulled off his sunglasses and gave Ridley a serious stare but she had unfolded her hands and was now staring down at her bracelet and was fiddling with the gold camera charm. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"What more did you hear?" Ridley queried. "Catherine says you were on the phone a lot."

"Yelina's in hospital," Horatio confessed, "gunshot to her right leg but it passed through, she's angry about it more than anything, Eric and Calleigh just have a few scrapes and bruises, at least that's what they tell me and they're both processing the scene whilst Frank and his men are trying to find Emily."

"Poor woman," Ridley commented softly as she pictured the teary woman who had grabbed her on the streets terrified. "After everything she went through, Jesus, now they're going to torture her," she swallowed hard as she continued to twist the charm in her fingertips.

"Hopefully Calleigh and the others will find her first," Horatio murmured. "Anyway, what about the Wonderland case?"

"Nothing that gives us a clear suspect yet," Ridley confessed, "I mean she had another side to her but it's not so surprising, rich, young woman who doesn't get on with her mum and has no father figure, so she's runs about with punks trying to rebel even as she uses her mum's money to do it. Then she goes to Miami with her socialite friends to party and act like she's part of the rich scene, seems she liked both worlds to be honest. We have a few more places to check into, maybe Mr. Rothdale will pop up yet or someone else. I still like the idea of a connection with a drug dealer."

"And what about Speed, did he make any progress?"

"Um I don't know," Ridley admitted as she finally let the charm drop and hang harmlessly on the bracelet, "I haven't spoken to him yet."

Horatio frowned. "This thing between you two-"

"I know it's unprofessional," Ridley interrupted, "and I'm sorry, sorry we kind of made a scene and let down Miami and-"

"Ridley," the redhead cut her off gently, "that's not what I meant and no one made a scene, Speed was a little theatrical I suppose but I don't think Vegas were that bothered about it. After what happened with you last year and then Speed getting shot, you both have a lot of issues to work through and you should be working them out together but it doesn't seem to be happening that way."

"No," Ridley murmured coolly. "I thought we were okay but then we came here and it got difficult again. You don't approve much of us anyway and maybe you're right not to, we seem pretty destructive together." She sighed and pushed back some of her dark hair. "The psychiatrist warned me it couldn't work between me and Tim and you know we tried and I...I couldn't so we broke up... Maybe we got back together too soon or maybe it was fine until he got shot and now he's got issues too and it's too much or maybe we were never meant to be, shit I don't know, I've never been good in relationships." She fell silent, her cheeks turning red as she realised just whom she was confessing to. "And you don't want to hear this."

"Well I can't give much advice on it," Horatio commented dryly, "since I'm not much of an expert myself but you can talk about it if you want, if it helps."

"No, it's not fair to Tim but thanks. Anyway, we're going to head out with the detectives soon to check the Desert Funland, apparently it's an amusement park in town which has been here for a few weeks, and Estella was in it after The Golden Labyrinth and after that bar down town, it's our last place to check."

"Good, I'll come with you," Horatio offered.

"You don't have to," Ridley murmured, "I mean we're all going and you've been working hard all day."

"It's the end of our case here, so I'll go," Horatio insisted.

Ridley gave a small smile and nodded. "Okay, but go back to the hotel first, I'm going to get a quick shower and a change of clothes, I mean this is a hot, dusty place."

Horatio laughed. "I get the hint Ridley, if I won't rest I should at least rest, got it."

"Maybe have something to eat too?" she prompted.

"Sure, sure, when do you plan to head to this Funland?"

"Nine."

"Alright."

Horatio stood up at last, coffee in one hand as he placed his shades back on with the other. He wouldn't admit it to Ridley but there was at least one good thing that had come out of Miami's mayhem, the cartel had gotten back what they wanted and had successfully humiliated the cops and CSIs whilst doing it, as Agent Harrison had informed him grimly word was already on the streets of Miami that they had no interest in Detective Moon anymore. They had gotten Emily back from the cops, they had murdered people in the process and wounded CSIs and it was all under the CSI and police's noses, a successful retaliation for their own humiliation. Horatio wasn't quite ready to fully trust in Ridley's safety but it did make sense, they weren't going to start a street war over her now they had gotten Emily. Of course, he had to wonder what would happen if they got Emily back as Calleigh and Eric were determined to do.

* * *

At exactly nine o'clock Timothy Speedle, Horatio Caine and Ridley Moon met with the Vegas CSIs Gil Grissom, Nick Stokes, Catherine Willows, and Warrick Brown, and LVPD members Captain Jim Brass and Detective Chris Cavaliere. Ridley tensed slightly at the sight of Chris, who was quick to meet her gaze with his own serious and curious, brown stare. Nick couldn't resist a questioning glance at Tim as he wondered if he and Ridley had made up or not.

"Ready?" Jim queried calmly as he looked at the Miami trio with a measure of scorn. He felt it was unnecessary having so many CSIs on one job, especially when it was an old job but Catherine clearly had a thing for Horatio, Warrick and Nick wanted to finish business with the Miami trio, and Gil wanted a chance to see them in work before they left. What Jim had to wonder was what work exactly? When his phone rang he was quick to realise as he answered it that he shouldn't have wondered. "Brass. Uh huh. You don't say. No, we're on it; believe it or not we were heading that way anyway. Hell of a coincidence I know." He hung up the phone and looked to Gil this time. "Hey Grissom are your beach party allowed to tag along on a current case?"

"But of course," Grissom answered calmly, "that is, if they wish to." He flickered a careful glance over at Horatio.

Catherine put her hands on her hips and looked at Jim questioningly. "What's happened Brass?"

"Two things," Jim answered with a small, tight smile, "the ferris wheel just malfunctioned and several people are now dead, and a body has turned up in the tunnel of love."

"Certain irony to that," Ridley murmured dryly.

"Can we split it?" Nick questioned with a glimmer of excitement in his brown gaze.

"We could do better than that," Warrick commented with a competitive stare at Tim and Ridley, "let's see if the sunbathers can keep up with Vegas' pace."

Ridley folded her arms as she frowned back. "I'm a New Yorker," she reminded him, "let's see if you can match my city pace."

"You don't have jurisdiction," Chris growled out with an unimpressed look.

"We could grant it to them," Grissom suggested, "under our supervision of course."

"What are you thinking Grissom?" Catherine queried with an arched eyebrow.

"That Warrick and Nick only have a point between them in this year's evaluation."

Warrick and Nick exchanged a very competitive look then. "Fifty," Warrick was quick to say.

"You're on," Nick answered with a grin, "but I get Ridley on my team."

Tim visibly bristled at the remark but said nothing; instead he just turned his annoyed stare down on the camera hanging from his neck.

"Catherine, you, Nick and Ridley take one case, and Horatio, myself, Warrick and Detective Speedle will take the other," Grissom said, "it will get the job done quicker and it means our Miami friends can cover the scene for their own case better."

"It could take more than a night to solve a case," Tim grumbled, "and we're heading home tomorrow."

"That's not the attitude," Warrick complained with a roll of his blue eyes.

"That's okay," Grissom answered with a smile, "we can wrap up the cases but it will be good to have your help while we can."

"Great," Jim murmured sardonically, "CSIs from all nations working together, our dream come true, right Chris?"

Chris just shrugged in retort.

"Let's get going already," Nick remarked enthusiastically. "I call Tunnel of Love."

Tim clenched his fists tightly together at that and ignored Warrick's soft, mocking laugh.

"Great," Catherine commented bitingly, "you just had to go with the swans Nicky."

The group divided up into Brass and Chris' cars, Grissom making the conscious choice to go with Brass leaving Catherine's group to go with Chris much to Ridley's unease. It took close to forty minutes to reach their destination, during that time Grissom and Horatio exchanged a polite, brief conversation about their separate posts whilst Tim and Warrick avoided eye contact and shared an awkward silence.

They parked in a crowded, sandy car park and stepped out to twinkling lights, high pitched, repetitive music and the sickeningly sweet smell of popcorn, candy floss and vomit. "Well that's disturbing," Ridley made the first remark as she gazed up at the giant clown's head leering down them from a white metal sign with neon lit up letters beside it reading, 'Desert Funland'. The clown had an open mouth turned up in a ghoulish grin, with red lips, blue eyeshadow, a red nose and disembodied hands at either side that seemed to clutch at the white metal framework supporting it.

"So is the noise," Grissom murmured, "not much laughter or screams."

"Word's spread," Catherine commented.

There were five visible cop cars, lights still flashing on one them, beside which a female cop stood talking into her intercom. She glanced over at the CSIs, nodding when Brass tapped on his gold star and Chris made a half-hearted gesture of flashing his badge before he stopped to snap a shot of the clown.

"Not just bodies then Chris," Catherine commented with dry amusement, "just anything creepy?"

"Interesting," Chris corrected as he tilted his camera up slightly to get a better shot, "anything interesting Catherine."

"Alright teams, let's get moving," Grissom instructed as he started leading the way towards the frozen ferris wheel at the centre of the park.

As they moved the chaos started to become apparent. All of the rides had stopped but some of the stalls still appeared to be in business as people continued to purchase snacks. There were all too few cops and too many crowds as people stood in uneasy, curious groups, growing in number towards the ferris wheel and the Tunnel of Love. Ridley lingered back, taking in the scene with unease as she suppressed a memory at the sight of a roller coaster. She hadn't been in an amusement park since that fateful night out with her best friend Ruby, Ruby's boyfriend Brian and Brian's friend Will, a man who had raped Ruby and never been convicted of it and had most definitely contributed to her murder. Ridley sucked in a deep breath, it had been her last night out with Ruby and she had fallen out with the woman thanks to Will, and ended up spending the evening with Tim, Calleigh and Eric instead, little knowing she wouldn't see Ruby alive again.

"I bet you're pleased to see me," Chris' sarcastic voice snapped Ridley out of her past.

The New Yorker blinked up at her uncle in confusion and only then noticed that Catherine and Nick were several feet ahead, both of them taking several photographs of the scene around them. "What do you mean?" Ridley queried in confusion.

"You show up unannounced out of the blue and barely speak to me," Chris reminded her in an angry tone.

"I invited you out to dinner," Ridley protested numbly as she looked ahead to Nick.

"Because you knew I wouldn't go," Chris retorted heatedly, "when do I ever go to dinner? What were you trying to do Riddle, ease your guilt by pretending to make an effort with me, or putting on a show for your friends of trying to meet up with your uncle?"

Ridley paled at the nickname and shook her head wearily. "I'm here on a job Uncle Chris," she retorted calmly, "I don't have a lot of time."

"Not even for your own uncle? It's been ages Ridley, years even and not one word."

"Yeah well things have happened," she murmured darkly.

"I know kid I read the papers, first I even knew you were in Miami was when they started publishing in the papers about that bride, Mrs Silver. I was going to call you but of course I don't have your number and then when you ended up buried alive, shit Ridley, I was so close to jumping on a plane but after last time..." He trailed off awkwardly seeing how she flinched and her face turned an odd shade of grey.

"Yeah last time," she commented bitterly. "You men and all your fucking judgement."

"Ridley," he chided with a stern look, "less of the language hmm, I'm your uncle."

"Yeah you are so you shouldn't have judged me!" Ridley snapped as she glared at him. "But that's all anyone does, Ridley the slut, it's just so black and white. You left me Uncle Chris, you couldn't have run off any quicker so don't talk to me about losing contact."

"He was married," Chris hissed back angrily, "and your partner and it's not like I was expecting to find you just lying on the couch like that, give me some credit kid, it was a bit of a shock."

"Well I hardly meant you to see," she retorted moodily as they kept walking, treading on abandoned bottles, half-empty popcorn boxes, paper and plastic bags and wrappers, dropped pacifiers, blankets, scarves, gloves, glasses, and other debris. "It's not like the family was without scandal before that anyway," she added angrily. "You were the only one who bothered with me, you know I'm sorry I'm not perfect but even if you didn't like it you didn't have to flee the city like that. You could've asked me about it, I can't justify it, I won't lie, and I'm not proud of it okay but it happened and that's it."

"I know and I did contact you after Riddle," Chris retorted calmly with a softer gaze, "but you didn't want to know, you just cursed me out, remember?"

"You made me feel bad about myself, you know I'd already judged myself for sleeping with...Justin, I knew it was wrong but I couldn't deal with your judgement too, the only family I had and you thought so little of me."

"That's not true Riddle, sure I didn't like what you were doing but it's not like it wiped out all your other achievements, I just didn't want you to keep doing it, I wanted you to realise how special you are and that there was a guy out there for you, that you didn't have to be with him just to be with someone or not be lonely, or whatever the hell it was."

Ridley shook her head. "You called me a tramp like my mum, remember?" she remarked miserably.

"Yeah I do and I'm sorry for that, I did try to tell you but you were so angry, you didn't want to know, said you wanted me out of your life. Has it been better without me kid? Because it hasn't been better for me without you, you're my only family too you know and it killed me seeing all that shit in Miami, I should've just got on the plane, I know it and I'm sorry I didn't but you've got your mum's stubbornness and sometimes her mean streak flares up in you too and I thought if you really didn't want me in your life well...I didn't want to make your hell any worse by showing up when you were so vulnerable."

Ridley rubbed at her eyes roughly with one hand to force back the tears. "Damn it Uncle Chris," she scorned him. "It's not been better okay, it's been so tough, I've got good friends in Miami though and that helps but yeah I missed you, I really missed you, you're the only one who cared for a long time." She halted suddenly at a stall in front of them, her brown-grey eyes going wide as she fumbled with her purse to yank out her small, red camera.

"What, do you like taking interesting pictures too?" Chris quipped mockingly.

Catherine visibly frowned at the pair and folded her arms impatiently as she saw Ridley fumble for a personal camera. "Now is not the time for scrapbooking," she grumbled.

"Like uncle, like niece," Nick commented with amusement. "Well at least they're connecting."

The stall in question was abandoned, no staff or customers anywhere near it and it looked like it been that way for a while if the dust gathering on the wooden front was anything to go by. It was marked above as 'The Wonderful Llorrac's Magic Stall'. It had evidently been pilfered through by thieves and there wasn't much left, a broken magic wand, an opened, busted magician's kit, several shattered crystal balls and on one row in particular, which was what had caught Ridley's attention- several all too familiar, white rabbit masks. They were identical to the one on Mike White, which Tim had assured, coldly, had been the exact same as the one his shooter had been wearing. Ridley took several shots of the stall and its name before glancing apologetically at Catherine and scurrying on.

"Sorry," she said hastily as she reached the strawberry blonde, "it's relevant to our Miami case."

"Fair enough," Catherine permitted.

They finally stepped up to the foreboding entrance of the Tunnel of Love where several crowds stood trying to gawk into the dark entrance inquisitively, whilst three frustrated officers tried to keep them back. Chris flashed his badge at the cops whilst Catherine gave the necessary introductions.

Ridley could see how it might be romantic in a cheesy fashion- white swan boats, neon hearts over an arch that marked the entrance to a dark, promising tunnel of privacy that a lazy river wound into. Right now though it all just seemed creepy, the boats were empty, the river was still and the lights and music just seemed highly inappropriate.

"Hey Ridley want to be my date?" Nick queried jokingly as he took several photographs of the entrance.

"Where's the body?" Catherine asked calmly.

"Inside," one cop, a middle aged male, answered grumpily.

"I figured that," Catherine retorted, still calm though there was a hint of frustration in her blue gaze, "how far in?"

"I don't know," the cop grumbled, "Officer Chavez secured the scene, he's still in there with Officer Malley."

Catherine rolled her eyes before she started walking along the hard, black path that was at the edge of the river, her small flashlight pointing ahead as she did. Nick, Ridley and Chris all followed, pausing when they reached a point where the tunnel split in two with two helpful cupids suspended from wires pointing with their gold arrows in either direction. At the split was the love goddess Venus, scantily concealed in a pink, heart shaped bikini as she stood on an open, plastic conch shell, one hand pointing left and one hand pointing right.

"Great," Catherine grumbled.

"Ridley and I will go right, you and Chris go left and we'll have a romantic reunion when the tunnels meet up again," Nick suggested brightly.

"Ugh," Catherine groaned.

"I'm not happy about it either," Chris complained as he looked to Ridley.

"Seems safest," Ridley said, "one cop with one CSI." She plucked out her Beretta for good measure, letting Chris see it for reassurance.

"Alright then," Nick enthused, "let's go." He stepped in the water with a noisy splash, wading over to the black path that led up through the right. Ridley followed after him with more reluctance, wincing as her black boots proved that they were not waterproof.

"Who kills in a Tunnel of Love?" Catherine pondered as she started heading up the path that led to the left.

"Someone who thinks love is worth dying over," Chris answered sardonically.

"That was bad, even for you Chris," Catherine chided.

Ridley stifled a giggle when Nick actually started humming along to the music as they walked. "Come on Ridley, join in," he enthused as he glanced back at her with a smile.

"I don't think I know this one, sorry," she retorted sardonically.

He shook his head chidingly. "Shame, you had such a beautiful singing voice the other night, even if it was completely out of tune and the wrong words half the time," he added teasingly.

"Gee thanks," she replied as she blushed faintly. "Must be the New Yorker in me, no time to learn lyrics, too busy you see."

"Of course."

The pair paused suddenly as they reached three lone swan boats sitting in a miniature lake that the river widened into a lake with fountains spurting out of it and small waterfalls pooling into it from the walls. Its centre piece was a gold statue of a swan with a fairy princess and a elf prince sitting in it kissing. There were neon red hearts on the walls and they provided the only source of light. Over the music, waterfalls and fountains it was difficult to hear anything else. It should have been a pleasant enough scene but one swan boat with a corpse slumped over one side, which was smeared with red blood made for a disturbing sight.

Nick flashed his torch about curiously as they pressed on, both wondering where the cops where.

"Help..." They barely heard the croaked voice and it was only when Nick's torch beam shone out at the swan boats that they realised someone else was with them.

"In the boat to the left," Ridley hissed out as she raised her gun defensively.

Nick shone the torch at the left boat and they made out the shape of a cop's black hat as a bloody right palm rose slowly in their direction. "Wait here," Nick snapped before he immediately hit the water. It was surprisingly too deep even for him to stand in and he was forced to start swimming towards the boat.

Ridley watched, too shocked by the sight of the cop to do anything else.

BANG! Nick turned sharply as he heard a cry and a gunshot all at once before there was a loud splash. His eyes widened at the sight of the ripples in the water as he realised Ridley was gone.

* * *

"Well that's a bad way to go," Warrick commented dryly as they surveyed the gruesome carnage of the ferris wheel.

"Apparently it malfunctioned suddenly," a female officer explained to them tiredly, "according to survivors it was a fast ride, that was the appeal, but it started going faster than normal and then the safety bars became loose."

"Hey Grissom let this be a warning," Warrick remarked to his superior, "any ride has the potential for death, so think twice about those roller coasters."

"There would be no fun if there was no risk," Grissom answered calmly before he stepped up to the scene, "but one wouldn't expect much risk with a ferris wheel. Why was this one designed to go faster?"

"Because everyone wants their rides faster and scarier these days," Horatio answered. He made out three obvious corpses, one caught up in the centre bars of the ride, one slumped over a seat backwards, implying they had fallen from another, and one on the ground, broken and mangled with a bloody smear beneath them.

"I'll check the control box," Grissom said before heading towards the pale faced controller, "Warrick, start checking the parts of the ride, see if there's any obvious tampering, Lieutenant Caine, Detective Speedle, go where you see fit."

Tim frowned as he followed after Warrick reluctantly whilst Horatio started questioning one of the ride operators, a young, freckle faced teenager who looked on the verge of throwing up.

"So, are you glad to be going home Detective Speedle?" Warrick queried coolly, attempting to be conversational and just sounding hostile.

"Yes," Tim murmured. He sighed and looked at the dark skinned male calmly. It would be too easy to avoid an apology, hop on a plane and forget the whole thing but that wasn't right and he was determined to show Ridley he could make amends and not be an ass, maybe if she saw he had made up with Warrick it might help him just a little, plus Warrick did deserve an apology. "Look man I'm sorry for being a jerk, okay," he said in a stern tone though Warrick thought he heard some sincerity there too.

"I'd say apology accepted but I think I'd have to understand why you were such a jerk first," Warrick answered as he stood up from where he had been bent over at the wires and lights behind a wooden panel beneath the ride. "I mean you were so different when we first met."

"That's just it," Tim snapped moodily, "I was different and I've changed."

"Right," Warrick muttered dismissively before he lifted his camera and looked back down at the ride's mechanics.

"I'm serious," Tim grumbled, "look it's not easy to admit but you seem hung up on the guy you met briefly in Miami and me so I'll explain, I was trying to impress someone back then, trying to be someone I thought they'd like. Anyway, I wised up and I just let myself be me, and I don't know, you seem pretty averse to change or something and I got defensive because you didn't seem to like who I am now or willing to give me a chance. I'm pretty sure people change in Vegas too," he added sullenly.

"All the time," Warrick admitted, "and you've got a point, people do change and I haven't seen you in a while so I don't know why I was so bothered by how much you had changed. Look though, a woman really?"

"Yeah," Tim grumbled as he looked away awkwardly.

"Well we've all been there, glad you wised up," Warrick murmured. "Tell you what, let's start again Detective Speedle, you don't be an ass and I'll try to get to know you, the current you and next time you come back even if you've got a mohawk and nose piercings I won't complain and whip out the photo album." He grinned and extended out a hand.

Tim scowled but accepted the hand anyway. "Thanks," he said dryly.

"Can you also play nice with Nick?" Warrick pressed as he continued to hold Tim's hand, his grip tightening just a little. "He's not after Ridley if that's your concern, he's not like that. He just doesn't like seeing women hurt; he's a softie like that."

"Right, well okay, I'll apologise to him too."

"Good." Warrick finally released Tim's hand. "I hope your hangover wasn't too bad," he added mockingly.

"It was," Tim confessed.

She couldn't breathe; damn bastard had dragged her in after she had shot him! She could feel him trying to hold her down, trying to drown her. She wanted to shoot but he was wrestling her for the gun too and it was dark, she couldn't see.

She kicked out hard and his grip loosened, well at least her boots were good for something! Ridley hastened to the surface, paddling frantically for the edge of the path. She knew he was right behind her and her heart pounded madly as she grasped the edge of the path. She moved up out of the water, floundering awkwardly as she did, Beretta pushed out in front of her as she needed both hands to hoist herself out.

His hands grabbed her legs as he tried to pull her back. She kicked back widely and tried to wriggle free, half-dragging his heavier form up with her.

"Hold it right there!" Chris' voice bellowed out as he, Catherine and a male detective rushed to the scene and he took aim at the man behind Ridley in the water. "Move and I will shoot you dead!"

The man hesitated for a moment giving Ridley her chance to scramble free. The man went to retreat but Chris took the chance to pounce then as Catherine now had her gun aimed. Chris grabbed him tightly by the collar and punched him hard in the face. While the man was stunned Chris and the other officer dragged him from the water and handcuffed him whilst Ridley and Catherine both kept a careful aim on him.

"We need a medic!" Nick snapped from his position on the swan boat with Officer Chavez.

"Good work Ridley, are you okay?" Catherine quipped as she holstered her gun and looked to the soaked detective.

Ridley nodded grimly as she continued to clutch her Beretta tightly and keep it pointed forward.

"Are you sure?" Catherine pried.

Ridley didn't answer and Nick's protests distracted Catherine.

Everything seemed to pass in a blur after that, Chris and Officer Malley escorted their suspect out whilst Catherine set her kit down and started processing the scene whilst two other cops helped Nick take the wounded Officer Chavez out. By that stage their active crime scene had been radioed to the others and it didn't take long for Tim to abandon the ferris wheel, despite assurances that everyone was fine, to rush to the Tunnel of Love.

The dark haired CSI reached the scene as Ridley staggered out, gun still in hand, though it was limp by her side, she was soaked from head to toe, there was a bump on her head as a result of being dragged down into the water and she was so pale she was almost blue with a grim expression. "Always in the middle of it," Tim chided as he looked at her with worry and immediately tugged off his pinstriped shirt and held it out to her.

Ridley just looked at the shirt numbly before bowing her head wearily and shaking her head.

It took another couple of hours before the group finally departed the amusement park after Ridley explained what had happened in the Tunnel of Love and told Horatio and Tim about the stall. She had insisted on showing it to them despite Horatio suggesting she get dried up and changed. Tim had been noticeably unnerved at the sight but taken pictures anyway and Catherine had promised to follow it up with the amusement park's staff on the condition that Horatio treated her to supper.

It was a quarter to two in the morning by the time the Tim and Ridley retired to their hotel, and Ridley dried off and changed into her pyjamas. She had contemplated going to bed but found herself heading to the living room. There she had found Tim sitting on the couch clutching his shirt in both hands and looking at it with tears trickling slowly down his cheeks. She realised numbly that it was the first time she had ever rejected one of his shirts.

She made a low cough, causing him to thumb away his tears hastily before he turned to face her. "When I found those rabbit masks I thought about you and you getting shot," she explained calmly before she swallowed hard, "and how I couldn't breathe when you were bleeding there and God all I kept thinking was that I couldn't lose you. I thought of you in the water too, well mostly all I thought about was getting free and getting air again but there was one brief flicker, one thought, that we'd parted on such shitty terms."

"Ridley I can't lose you," Tim said seriously with a pleading look in his damp, brown eyes, "and I thought the same thing when you were lying in that hospital bed, and then when you went to New York, God I missed you. Then when you dumped me outside the cinema, I was so angry and upset at the same time, I'd waited so long and you were pushing me away all over again. Now I've been the one pushing away, because I became vulnerable, and it's not been fair but shit Ridley."

He stood up then and took a step towards her. "You like me for me, you laugh at my jokes, you don't fuss about my hair or my appearance, you like my shirts," he paused and glanced down at the one in his hands with a dejected look before continuing on, "you like getting takeaways, you don't care that I don't really cook or do DIY or gardening or any of that shit, and you have never tried to change me. You're the first woman who has just been happy to let me be myself and you are the first woman I've ever loved like this, I told you that, I've never let anyone else wear my jackets or shirts, and I sure as hell haven't danced with anyone else on a beach, or rode a carousel with them, or watched bad detective movies with them, and the thing is Ridley, I don't normally like doing any of that stuff but with you I love it, I love carving pumpkins for you, and watching bad horror films curled up with you, and I love sitting on the beach with you even though I'm not a beach person."

Ridley nodded as she found herself twisting the gold camera charm about between her finger and thumb. 'He took me in his arms and held me close when Ruby died,' she reminded herself, 'even though it was unprofessional and risky and everything else, he didn't care, he held me close and he let me go home with him. He took me out for noodles last year for my birthday and this year he carved a pumpkin for me and took photos so I'd have memories of the happy times and he got me a bracelet, which even had a charm for Justin on it. He lets me wears his shirts when I'm scared and he sat with me in that horrible hospital and held me close when I had bad dreams. He remembered I liked giraffes and he got me a scarf to hide my scars. He lets me call him even when its three in the morning and he's to get up at six just because I'm uneasy, God he was even my prom date on the beach because I had never been to prom.'

"You can make mistakes," she said softly, "and I can too but not like we have, no more of this destroying each other, if we can't help each other with our issues then it's not going to work."

"I know," he agreed quietly. "Believe me I don't like hurting you and I swear to God I did not mean what I said at that dinner table. Look, I'm going to make it up to you if you give me the chance."

Ridley looked curious at this. "How?"

"I asked Horatio if we could stay one more day and night," Tim confessed, "I said if you would forgive me that is, so you can have a nice time in Vegas, no crimes, no drama, no shit, and only if Calleigh and the others can wait one more night, though Eric assures me that they can."

"Eric?"

Tim had the grace to look sheepish. "I might've texted him that night telling him I'd fucked up again."

"Ah."

"Yeah, and he told Calleigh and I got a nice phone call earlier today day telling me I had to make it right before we went home. She said, and I quote, 'even the cartel can wait while you fix your shit' because Calleigh likes our dates together and if I ruin that, and again I quote, 'I'll put so many bullets in your ass you won't ever shit right again'."

Ridley gave a small smile at this though her retort was biting as she said, "well I'm glad everyone knows about our problems."

Tim sighed and rubbed his hair awkwardly with one hand. "I'm sorry about that, I'm sorry about the whole evening and being a dick over...over a dumb photograph and...Nick."

"Just one thing Tim."

"Yeah?" He looked at her hopefully.

"You and Megan, are you going to tell me about that?"

"Er...if you want but it's...I never felt about her the way I do about you, I mean I wasn't thinking about her when Warrick talked about the old me, just that the old me was because of her."

Ridley nodded and her gaze softened a little at last. "I'm not being fair," she admitted, "I mean I've been secretive about Uncle Chris and him here has made me edgy. He found out about me and Justin you see, that's why you didn't know about Chris until now, we fell out over it because he said I was a slut like my mum and I never spoke to him after that, until now. I guess seeing him and remembering that and then having you make that stupid, flippant remark, well it just made me angry because Chris was right, I mean Justin was married...I did a bad thing but I can't keep getting judged for it."

"No," Tim agreed as he looked guilty, "you can't and I won't and I shouldn't have... Megan...Megan was married too," he confessed awkwardly.

Ridley gritted her teeth slightly as she paled and her eyes hardened once more. "Really?" she spat out.

"Yes," Tim answered swiftly, "and yet I judged you over Justin when we met because I was a prick then too, shit Ridley I really am sorry. I just I didn't know you and then I started to get to know you and I just couldn't see you being the 'other woman' because I was just making assumptions. Then I learnt about it, about Hawkes and what happened to you and shit it made sense, and then I hated Justin because I thought he'd taken advantage of you but I didn't know the guy so that wasn't fair.

I wanted to tell you about Megan sooner but when I learnt your reasons for Justin...well then I couldn't because my reasons weren't so understandable, I was young, and I liked her and I didn't give a shit that she was married because I wanted her and I ended up hating myself for it. I changed so much for her, it wasn't good and her husband, he was good to me and it just made me hate myself more, which is why I ended up judging other home wreckers so harshly because it's hard to understand how anyone could be so selfish, I still can't understand how I managed it."

Ridley nodded weakly, unsure what to say.

"Anyway," Tim said awkwardly as he continued to look at her hopefully, "that's all done, and I'll tell you all about it if you really want but not right now. All I'm going to say is I'm sorry and I love you and I know what it's like without you and it's shit and I don't want to go back to that."

"No, I suppose it would be difficult finding someone else who'll watch bad detective movies whilst eating noodles," Ridley murmured dryly with a faint smile. "Can I wear your shirt to bed tonight?"

Tim grinned at last, the relief on his face all too obvious. "Sure." He held it out to her, his grin widening when Ridley accepted it and tugged it over her pyjama top.


	21. Chapter 20- In Love, Sickness and Death

A print on Aphis, a gun connected to a previous murder and finally, tiny grains of sand and seeds left at the scene, trekked in on someone's black boots, prints that hadn't matched any of the staff or victims. Eric felt they were finally getting somewhere but Calleigh didn't think they were getting there fast enough. They already knew what some of the cartel members looked like thanks to footage of Ridley's tangle with them in the mall, the security footage from the cafe was an added bonus but it didn't amount to much, nor did the owner of the print- one Carlos Banderas, a known cartel member wanted over drug offences, having a name just wasn't enough. Every cop in the city was already looking for their faces, and of course they had spread the name Carlos Banderas about but no one was expecting it to be that easy. The sand and the seeds though, that was showing some better success.

"I've got something," Eric announced to Calleigh with a small smile as he entered the lab where she was studying the bullets left at the scene for the umpteenth time.

"What is it?" the blonde queried as she turned to him with a hopeful look. The trail was starting to grow cold, it had been over twenty-four hours and no one was expecting to find Emily Jenkins alive. Still, they had to hope; the cops at least talked about forty-eight hours, but if they were going to let her live that long it certainly wouldn't be painlessly. Her friend and fellow drug thief had not died quickly.

Eric held up a sheet indicating his results from tests on the sand and seeds. "Red gem and angel's trumpet, not your average flowers, and the sand, it's got an unexpected content of oil."

"Meaning?" Calleigh pressed as she dared to let her hope grow.

"Well I looked into it, I mean Speedle does better with trace than me but I got something, there's only one beach in Miami that could match up to this, a minor, private cove beside White Ellison estate, it has a couple of caves that used to be popular with smugglers and pirates. Anyway, there was a minor oil spill there a couple of months ago, remember that case where that idiot hippie was trying to sabotage an oil company? He tried to steal one of their tankards and beached it on the rocks; luckily it wasn't yet full when he took it so the beach only suffered minimal damage. Of course the environment still took a beating and the beach has been closed ever since."

"And the plants?"

"It took a while but there are a few garden homes that sell their seeds, one near White Ellison estate, which, according to their accounts, has regularly sold a few to one house on the street, Mrs. Hayden's to be precise."

"Great, so could they be hiding out in those caves then?" Calleigh queried sharply.

Eric shrugged. "I don't know, the evidence suggests they started there at one point anyway, only one way to find out."

"Well I'll ring Frank," Calleigh said as she immediately grabbed her jacket and headed for the door.

"He won't let us go," Eric informed her as he followed her out, "not after what happened."

"He won't have a choice," the blonde said firmly, "this is our case, and our evidence, and we have a right to follow it up. It is our job to chase up evidence last I checked."

"I know but..." Eric trailed off at the fierce look he got in retaliation. "Yelina's still in the hospital," he said softly with a worried look, "that shot was shallow but it's turning infected, I mean, we don't need something worse happening."

"We need to fix the damage," Calleigh said firmly, "and we need to get Emily back alive if we can. The law put her in this position, testify or be abandoned; she was given no choice but to put herself in danger to save herself."

"Now Calleigh, she made that choice before all this with her friend when they chose to steal drugs off someone."

"I know," the blonde murmured, "and it was foolish but you saw her and her friend, they're just stupid kids Eric, that poor girl didn't deserve torture and death for it and neither does Emily."

"Okay," Eric gave in, "but when we wrap this up and we will, we're going for that drink."

Calleigh turned back to give Eric a small smile. "Of course."

It took a precious thirty minutes to reach Frank and persuade him and his less than impressed superiors of their theory based on the evidence and to let them accompany them to the scene. Finally, after another forty minutes of arguing, Calleigh cursed them out for wasting time and she and Eric agreed to not enter any caves until they had been thoroughly searched by the cops.

* * *

It was just past half-two when the SWAT team were finally on the private Coconut Grove Beach preparing to raid the three small known caves of the area. Eric and Calleigh hung back with Frank on the edge of the beach exchanging several looks of frustration as they waited for the drama to play out. It seemed quiet, too quiet but Eric theorised that was because of the oil damage driving the native animals and locals off the peaceful sandy shores. The tide was out and its low ebbing was barely audible.

Then came the hail of gunfire.

"Get down!" Frank shouted as he drew his gun.

Calleigh and Eric both drew their weapons as they watched the sand flurry up into the air as bullets embedded into it. There was shouting all around, radios going off, numerous people crying out orders and then it came. The cartel hadn't just been trading in guns and drugs but explosives too.

The sky turned orange, a bright, hot shade that Calleigh didn't think she had ever seen before and it was coming fast, streaking up the sand mercilessly, so hot the air burned through the blonde's lungs. Eric didn't think, he just moved, grabbing Calleigh by one hand and throwing her hard into an alcove amongst some rocks on the beach, a last, tiny resort.

Her blue eyes locked with his brown gaze and held it hard. It felt like an eternity, and that warm, brown, serious, caring gaze was all Calleigh was aware of. The pounding in her chest didn't matter, the ringing in her ears didn't matter or the sweat lashing down her and the tremble in her fingers as chaos tore up their surroundings. All that mattered was Eric, Eric who in seconds could be blown away from her, Eric who was pressing her down, keeping her safe from the roaring flames, and the suffocating black smoke, and the gunfire, and the screams.

She saw him wince and she screamed then and tried to reach up to him and out to him. Her hand caught his cheek as he actually smiled and tears soaked down her own pallid, scared face. "Don't," she choked out.

Moments later he finally slumped to his knees and his smile faded a little. "Are you okay?" he queried hoarsely.

"Yes," Calleigh retorted as she swallowed down a sob and her lip trembled.

"Good, well it's over," he murmured, "so we can get that drink."

"Right." She nodded frantically, too shocked to smile.

He smiled then before his eyes flickered shut and he slumped onto her. Calleigh's hands wrapped about his back and immediately became sticky with blood. The blonde started to shriek until her throat burned and her lungs ached but it was impossible to hear her over all the other commotion. Sirens were screaming up all the roads, residents were yelling, people were screaming, moaning and cursing; helicopters were roaring from above and house alarms were chiming in tune with the police and ambulance sirens.

It was Frank who found Eric and Calleigh, spying them through his one working eye. He barked an order to the medics to go them first despite the shrapnel in his left eye and the bullet in his right arm. He could see the state of Eric and it wasn't good, Frank had had better luck, somehow the inferno had bypassed him.

It would be hours before anyone could piece together what had happened. The cartel members had indeed been in the caves, it was where they had stashed their drugs, weapons and explosives, loading them onto boats to take in and out of Cuba at night. No one was policing this particular beach after all; it had been abandoned to the oil spill, giving them an easy opening into Florida. They had been intending to move after getting Emily but they hadn't been expecting the SWAT team to arrive on their doorstep when they had. One cave had been rigged, ready for any would be police but the other two hadn't. Over twenty-five million dollars worth of drugs was retrieved after the carnage had been cleared, ten cartel members were dead and three lifted for questioning and Emily, against all the odds, had been retrieved alive though given her state some thought maybe it would have been better for her to have died.

* * *

Calleigh didn't leave the hospital Eric was taken too, even when she was released with just a few scrapes she stayed, even when they wouldn't let her in with him she stayed. She remained right outside the operating ward, still half in shock as she waited and wondered and worried. That look in his eyes, God it had been so raw, so open and vulnerable, it had been love. She felt tears trickle down her face at that thought and wondered if he had seen the same in her own gaze, God she hoped so because she had felt it, in that one moment all the confusion had faded away and she had finally known with complete certainty that she loved him.

She stayed standing in the corridor for hours, even when her knees began to tremble from the strain and her entire body turned numb she remained. A nurse tried to urge her to the waiting room, another to a seat in a different area but Calleigh wouldn't go. The blonde stayed vehemently outside the operating room determined to remain for all the hours it took.

It was just after eleven in the morning when Ridley raced up the corridor to her friend, eyes wide and burning with worry. She didn't ask or say anything, she didn't have to, the worry and uncertainty in Calleigh's bloodshot, watery, clear blue eyes was enough. Ridley just wrapped her arms around her friend and pulled her close. "God Calleigh I'm sorry," she murmured.

Horatio and Tim bypassed their friend to the doctor as the blonde tensed against Ridley. "There was...you've missed so much..." Calleigh babbled to explain.

"I know," Ridley retorted, "the others have been trying to catch us up, don't worry about that. I'm here now Calleigh, we're all here so just share the burden now, okay."

The blonde shuddered as she shook her head, determined not to unleash the fears and grief she had been trying so damn hard to keep contained but her legs started knocking together, threatening to give way again and the sobs finally slipped through. She felt anger along with her worry, anger for the cartel, anger for herself, anger for Eric being so dumb and noble and anger at Ridley, Tim and Horatio for not being here. Finding the anger easier to focus on and a way to control her tears, the blonde gave into it.

"Yes it's good you're here now when it's all over," Calleigh snarled angrily. "Nice to skip town while the cartel danger is still hot and come back when it's taken care of."

Ridley wasn't surprised at the anger from the blonde, she knew where it came from, she'd felt it herself enough times, when you lost control, when you felt helpless and guilty and yet it was too hard to blame yourself and so, to survive, you blamed someone else.

"You're right," Ridley said softly, "I knew the cartel were a problem and I still went to Vegas and left you and Eric to take care of things, which you both did. Even when I knew about it I didn't come back, I could hear the worry in your voice you know, on the phone, I knew there was still a problem when you said there wasn't," Ridley confessed, "but I knew you'd want us to keep going too. I knew you wouldn't want us throwing away the time we did spend in Vegas because the serial killer is still out there and he doesn't give a shit about the cartel or drugs or any other crime going on in this city.

I let you down as a friend and that's unforgiveable, it is, because I was trying to be a cop first and go with the attitude that crime's still happening no matter what, that the world doesn't stop for us and if the crime keeps happening the cops have to keep working, it was a poor choice. I'm here now though as your friend Calleigh. So get mad, scream at me, hit me, and yell at me until you can't anymore because that's what I'm here for."

Ridley leaned back slightly and met Calleigh's furious gaze.

"I hate you!" the blonde snapped. "I hate you all for leaving, but God I would have hated it more if you had stayed, if they had gotten you! Shit, they got us in the cafe, they shot Yelina and I was so mad at everyone, I was mad because I was too slow in that cafe, because the cops involved still gave the cartel a chance to slip in there and kill innocent people, I hate the captain for allowing such a reckless plan to go ahead, a plan that involved civilians! I hated you for being in Vegas in a nice hotel safe from it all and I hate myself for thinking so negatively about you guys like that because you had to be there because you wouldn't have been safe here!"

The blonde rubbed at her eyes furiously with one hand and shook her head as she looked past Ridley to Tim and Horatio who were standing awkwardly together, almost facing each other as they tried to pretend they weren't listening to Calleigh's outburst.

"You're too selfless Calleigh," Ridley commented gently, "you always worry about all of us and never yourself and when we try to look out for you, you get mad. The danger is part of our job, all our jobs, and unfortunately that's the risk we take every day and Eric knew that as well as we do. Be mad at me but not him and not yourself, I've seen the way he looks at you and I promise there is no way you could have stopped him trying to protect you."

At that remark Calleigh finally did let the sobs win out. "It should work both ways," she choked out, "I should have protected him too. It was awful, the whole sky just filled with fire and I was frozen, I've...I've never been frozen like that but Eric knew to move, he ran and he pulled me with him and he found a spot." She raised both hands to her mouth and sobbed into them.

Ridley embraced her friend once more and met with no resistance this time. "He'll be okay," she said gently, "it will take time but we will get him there."

"How can you know that?" Calleigh queried in despair. "You haven't seen him, God so many burns..."

"I know because you guys got me there," Ridley said confidently.

* * *

When Eric finally awoke there was only one thing on his mind and it was first thing he said. "Calleigh."

The blonde, who had been half-asleep, was immediately alert at the hoarse voice. She sat upright and leaned forward, putting herself in his vision as she looked down at him. "Hey there," she greeted warmly.

"You're safe, good," he said with a faint smile.

"Of course I am because of your stupid heroics," she scorned him with an anxious laugh. "Thank you and never do it again!"

Eric winced as he tried to sit up and realised he was too well bandaged for that. His back felt like it was on fire as did the back of his arms and thighs and yet he felt good, perhaps because of the morphine being pumped into him he supposed but he liked to believe it was because of the beautiful, golden haired woman smiling down at him. "It was worth it for this," he said sincerely.

Calleigh looked confused at his remark. "What, getting yourself banged up in a hospital bed?"

He shook his head as he let out a brief, painful laugh. "No, it was worth it to see you safe and smiling."

"Oh Eric." Calleigh felt tears of relief start to trickle down her cheeks and she rubbed at them feebly. "I was so worried about you, I wasn't even sure; I mean there were a couple of moments..." She trailed off, no point in letting him know how long he had been in intensive care for and getting skin grafted. "I...it doesn't matter, what matters is you're finally awake so I can say this, you owe me one hell of a drink!"

Eric laughed again. "Hey I think you owe me the drink," he teased.

Calleigh smiled and said seriously, "I owe you a lot more than that Eric Delko."

"Like what?" he pried.

She leaned down and stunned him with a deep kiss. Eric leaned up to it as he tasted her raspberry lipgloss and breathed in her lavender perfume. When they broke apart Calleigh said softly, "I thought you were going to leave me and it terrified me, don't leave me Eric."

"I won't," he assured, "and once I'm out of here I'll take you for the best dinner ever. How long has it been anyway?"

"A week."

"What?! Seriously?"

"Yeah they had you in a controlled coma for two days you know and ever since you have been in and out of it on drugs, this is the first you've been coherent."

"So what date is it?" he queried dopily.

"November 14th."

"Shit," Eric marvelled, "so everyone's back from Vegas?"

"Yeah, days ago," Calleigh retorted, "and they have all been here." She gestured to the table beside her. "See Speedle's mess, I threw out his coffee cups last time and he went mad, dirty pig likes to drink three days old coffee, and this is Ridley's." She held up a pulp fiction styled detective novel.

"And H?"

Calleigh made a show of hunting about the table to hide her uneasy expression. "You know he hasn't left anything but he has been here," she assured.

"What about Yelina?" Eric pounced on the subject the blonde had been reluctant to discuss.

"Um still in hospital," she admitted.

"What?" Eric looked confused. "But it was just a graze."

"She's got an infection but don't worry, they're treating it with strong antibiotics and she's a fighter like you," Calleigh assured.

Eric frowned. "It has been over a week for her," he murmured.

When the door knocked Calleigh looked relieved as she stood up to answer it. She opened it to a tired looking Tim who was quick to tug off his dark shades and slip them into his shirt's front pocket. "How is he?" he queried softly.

"Ask him yourself," Calleigh suggested cheerfully, "he's awake." She turned back to Eric with a nod before stepping back to let Tim in.

"There he is!" Eric enthused with a smile. "The man who hasn't a clue about women. Please tell me you fixed things while I was unconscious."

Tim gave a small, brief smile at that before nodding sheepishly and rubbing his messy, dark hair with one hand. "Yeah, I did, it involved two carousel rides, with plenty of incriminating pictures, a very, very expensive dinner and, worst of all, a one on one coffee with Ridley's uncle, but I fixed it."

"Uncle?" Calleigh and Eric both quipped in surprise at the same time. They exchanged a smile and Calleigh actually laughed.

The blonde hadn't had much sleep and she had asked almost nothing about Vegas until Eric was in the clear and even then she had only queried about the case briefly. The others hadn't bothered volunteering information; instead Horatio had taken over wrapping up the cartel business whilst Ridley and Tim had returned to the Wonderland murders with their newfound knowledge. That of course was when they weren't at Eric's bedside, making sure Calleigh went home, accompanying Calleigh home on some occasions in Ridley's case, or helping with Yelina's son Raymond Junior. The latter duty had been slightly unexpected but Yelina had pleaded with Horatio to step in as her mother was saddled with him and too old for the boy's wayward ways. Of course Horatio had promised to do all he could but the childless bachelor, who was definitely good with kids wasn't all that great with parenting, prompting the sympathetic Ridley to insist they all helped. Calleigh couldn't actually decide what had been more stressful, worrying over Eric or trying to supervise a rebellious young boy.

"Yeah, Detective Chris Cavaliere, " Tim explained awkwardly before he occupied Calleigh's seat and instinctively reached for the cup of half-drunk coffee he had abandoned there last night. "A cop who's very into the intimidating type of interrogation and is always Detective Cavaliere to me," he added dryly.

Eric laughed at this. "I bet you squirmed," he jested, "and did he know about you and Ridley's fight?"

Tim shrugged as he made a face at the taste of cold coffee before taking another gulp anyway. "He made it somewhat clear that he did yeah," he admitted at last. "Anyway, enough about that, it's boring compared to what you were up to! I leave the city for three days and you get yourself put in hospital, seriously Delko, can't you take care of yourself without me?" he queried teasingly.

Calleigh stood and watched the boys tease each other for a moment and felt a small prickle of joy. For a few days there she had really thought they wouldn't have this anymore, first Tim mucking up his relationship with Ridley, then Eric almost getting killed.

The first night Ridley had persuaded Calleigh to leave the hospital with her the blonde had had a breakdown. She had cried over everything, over Yelina and Eric, then over Tim getting shot and Ridley's past traumas and lamented that they all seemed to be cursed. She had been surprised when Ridley, the one person she was certain would agree with her grim outlook, had actually disagreed with it. Ridley had then told her she had previously thought that but it had been Calleigh's eternal optimism that had made her think maybe it was just life and you had to take the good with the bad and make an effort for the good. Ridley had then hugged her friend close, apologised again for not being there for her, and for her and Tim's drama eclipsing things, and then vowed that they would soon sit and laugh together on a beach again.

The blonde's expression darkened slightly as she wondered if Yelina would ever be joining them again. She couldn't admit it to Eric as she didn't want to stress him but the infection had spread, the doctors were talking about a rare form of blood poisoning and Horatio hadn't left her bedside in three days.

"Go get some rest Calleigh," Tim urged as he looked her way, "I'll look after him, don't worry."

"Hey I'll be fine of my own," Eric protested.

"Nah you won't, you'll be bored stiff without me," Tim retorted humorously.

"Okay," Calleigh gave in, "I'll see you soon." She gave Eric a warm, reassuring smile before slipping out of the room.

"So tell me about Vegas," Eric begged Tim as he looked up at him eagerly, "what about the case? What about the casinos? And what in the hell about you and Ridley? And have you spoken to Alexx yet?"

"Let's see, we got a good lead in the case," Tim retorted proudly, "there was an amusement park in the city, one of the very last places Estella van le Rael visited with some questionable friends. Ridley found a stall there, which belonged to one Wonderful Llorrac, a magician who used to perform in a tent in the park. Llorrac being Carroll backwards, as in Lewis Carroll, complete with the two Rs and Ls, like some private, sick joke as if the rabbit masks at the stall weren't enough of a clue." Tim tensed slightly, after seeing them he had managed to suffer three nightmare fuelled nights in a row and had been very grateful to have Ridley there to wake him up each time and snuggle into him with a reassuring smile before flipping on the television to distract him with some bad cartoons. "Anyway, we chased it up here, turns out the same magician was part of Circo de Ammiratio, a circus visited by, and this will shock you, the Hayir family, they caught the full show, and the twins you identified as Rick and Stanley Tweed, their schoolmates confirmed they visited the circus property one day and caught a magician's act in the tent."

"Wait, then why did no one at the circus know about him when we asked?" Eric demanded angrily.

"Oh this is where it gets really good; he just slipped in one day and started performing, on the property but never in the big ring, everyone just assumed Nina Balksom had okayed it or that someone knew about him. Course the only name he ever gave anyone, including Nina, was Llorrac and she says she never saw him without the mask, which was just a black face mask she says, and of course every other circus performer has skipped town so we can't ask any of them if they did."

"So is it Rothdale?" Eric wondered aloud.

Tim shrugged. "We don't know but we know what we're looking for, he's a performer and that's how he has been picking his victims, from his performance and based on their names. He's psychotic enough to think these poor people are deliberately being sent to him, that he's meant to be doing this- a girl who calls herself Alice, a family called Hayir, twins named Tweed, and a boy named White."

"And what about Mark White?" Eric pondered. "Was he at the circus too?"

"Don't think so, but it was all wrapped up before White died," Tim reminded him, "so we're looking into it, seeing if our friend has done a reappearing act somewhere else in the city."

"So Vegas was worth it then," Eric enthused.

Tim nodded.

"Worth the big fight?" Eric pried. He grinned at Tim's frown. "Sorry but your text message was priceless, it was obvious you were trashed although I did get a bit worried, you and Ridley have been through enough, you have something special going on and it sure as hell isn't worth screwing up over Megan, Speed you didn't love her, it was just an infatuation," he scolded.

"I know," Tim murmured, "believe me, I really fucking know and I won't muck it up again. What about you and Calleigh? You finally realised if you don't properly commit you might never? That it might end up being too late?"

Eric nodded sombrely. "Yeah I just...when that bomb went off all I thought about was keeping her safe, that was it Speed but when I was sheltering her then I thought, shit, what if this is it? All that matters is if she lives but if I die and she doesn't know how I feel and not even that, if I die not knowing how she feels or how it might have turned out... I have to know and as soon as I get out of here I'm going to find out, no more wasting time wondering, she's worth the risk that's for sure."

Tim nodded. "You know I think we should all make a New Year's Resolution to stay the hell out of hospitals," he joked, "and by the way this makes us even, now you're the one out of work."

"Yeah and I'm catching up to you too," Eric complained, "still, there's a chance I'll get out of hospital before you did so then I'll still have worked more hours."

"Well we'll see."

"Hey so on another matter, November 14th..." Eric trailed off as he looked up at Tim seriously.

"Yeah?"

"One year exactly in ten days," Eric murmured sombrely.

Tim frowned and thumbed his nose, a clear sign that he didn't want to discuss this. One year to the day that Ridley had been kidnapped, tortured and buried alive. "I know, it's not a date I'm ever going to forget," he grumbled. "Look we'll deal with it when it comes to it," he murmured, "if that's what you're asking. Don't worry about it, just worry about getting better."

"Yeah I was just thinking, if I'm out of here by then, and I intend to be, maybe you, me, Ridley and Calleigh should have a movie night then."

Tim gave a small smile. "Sure," he agreed.

* * *

In a different part of the hospital in a quiet room Horatio sat by Yelina's bedside assuring her that Raymond Junior was doing fine and currently getting picked up from school by Ridley.

"Ridley doesn't strike me as the maternal type," Yelina confessed as she gave a faint smile. Her skin was soaked with a thin sheen of sweat and was an unpleasant shade of grey, given her pallor was normally a warm bronze for her to be so sickly pale made how unwell she was all too obvious. It wasn't something Horatio had been able to downplay to her son despite his best efforts. She was hooked up to all sorts of monitors and drips and the redhead wasn't too sure that it was doing her any good.

"No," he said with a small smile, "but I think it will be good practice for her."

"Oh, her and Speed planning kids already?" Yelina queried mockingly.

"Not planning yet I wouldn't think," Horatio answered as his grin widened. "Calleigh's great with him you know, she'll make a fantastic mother one day."

"Yes," Yelina agreed tiredly, "and you, you will be a good dad Horatio."

"All I need is the right woman," he murmured with a guilty gleam in his dark blue irises. He wore his guilt better than the others but it was heavier than any of theirs, the guilt of being with one woman you might have feelings for whilst another you knew you loved was getting shot and then lying ill in a hospital bed.

"Don't do that," Yelina chided as she raised her hand limply to press a sweaty palm against his cheek. "I know you think if we had met before Ray and I..." Her eyes shone with sorrow at the memories of her late husband. "And maybe Horatio, maybe, I can't know but that's all it is...a question, a maybe, a dream... Ray and I had something real and you can too with someone..."

Horatio pressed his own hand against hers and pressed it close. "Maybe but while I have the option to dream I will."

"I miss him so much and I want to be with him again," she confessed hoarsely, "but I don't want to leave our son. You promise you will always look out for him right?" She pulled her hand back at last and looked up at the redhead seriously.

"You know I will but you're going to be fine," he assured.

"And promise me something else hmm?"

"Yes?"

"You'll give Catherine a call." Yelina gave a faint smile at this.

Horatio actually laughed. "Sure Yelina, I will and you can meet her, she's a strong woman, just like you, you'll like her."

"If you like her I know I will," Yelina assured. "One final thing."

Horatio's gaze hardened at that. "Not final," he chided, "just one more thing for now."

"A kiss because I'm afraid of it staying a question and a maybe," Yelina confessed as she held his gaze with her own serious, bloodshot one. "Let me know for sure Horatio."

He obliged by leaning down and pressing his lips against hers gently. It was something he had wanted to do for months now but not like this, this wasn't right, her lips were too hot, in fact she was radiating heat from all over and almost too weak to respond. He thought there would be a spark but there wasn't, with Catherine there had definitely been something, a rush of electric and heat that had turned into something wild and exciting, a moment of passion that was so entirely unlike him and yet he had loved every moment of it.

Yelina smiled and closed her eyes as he pulled back. "Did you feel it too?" she quipped almost dreamily.

Horatio clutched her limp, right hand in both of his and squeezed tightly. "Yes," he lied, "I felt it too." He tensed when he saw her chest still and heard the monitor die as it signalled out to the hospital staff that her heart had stopped.

* * *

 _So I see this chapter and chapter 19 as two halves of one whole, I know the last chapter was very Tim/Ridley heavy but I wanted to conclude their business and the Vegas business separately so that it didn't overshadow the Eric/Calleigh and cartel arch plus splicing them together would have made for one epically long chapter. So apologies for one chapter being too heavy on Vegas and this too heavy on Miami but that just seemed the best way for me to edit it._

 _Glad you've all stuck with me so far and I really hope you are still enjoying this fic and the characters and the plot, have to say I think we are finally nearing the conclusion!_

 _And to address the ending of this chapter, huge apology to any Yelina fans and Yelina/Horatio fans, I am one but I feel him and Catherine have a more interesting potential but more importantly it worked out like this- initially it was going to be Tim and when I couldn't do that, then it was going to be Eric or Yelina and honestly I couldn't do that to the EC fans. Why anyone at all? Because they all got lucky in Suburban Legends, well in a manner of speaking, obviously Ruby didn't and Ridley had pretty much everything except death happen, and I can admit now that I actually was going to kill her off at the end but people liked the potential of a sequel and I thought ending it that way would be too grim as even with getting the bad guy Horatio and the others would still feel they had failed. I mean this has had a lot of drama and action and danger so I felt it was only realistic that someone finally got killed. Plus I thought of the idea of Horatio being the guardian of Raymond Junior and I couldn't really let go of that image._

 _As always, read and review, I really appreciate it!_


	22. Chapter 21- Death and Magic

Ridley gave a small, weary smile as she spotted Raymond Caine Junior cutting a lonely figure in the November afternoon on a rusting swing in a small, vague form of a park. It had been no surprise that he had left school without waiting for a lift again but locating him was getting a bit trickier and every time whoever was picking him up always felt a surge of panic, worry and of course fear, fear for the boy, fear for the grief it would add to Horatio's state, and fear of the consequences should social services ever find out that the police and CSIs of all people couldn't keep a ten-year-old boy within their sights.

To begin with Raymond had started skipping school but then the school was always swift to call his guardian, Horatio, and it didn't take long for the redhead to track down his nephew. At first Horatio had been nice about it, reminded Raymond that he was entitled to take the time off if he wanted but Raymond had insisted on going to school. Then things turned sour as Horatio started to lose his temper. It hadn't taken Raymond long to work out that it was smarter disappearing after school rather than during as the school wasn't going to alert anyone if he walked home or left with a friend, as the school could never be certain who exactly he should be going home with.

"Hi Raymond," Ridley greeted softly as she took a seat on the rubber swing beside him and gave him a tired stare. Yelina had died just nine days ago, the funeral had only been six days ago, and yet to Ridley, who had hastened to pick up the pieces, work wise at least, it seemed like it could have been just yesterday or months ago. The New Yorker had lost all sense of time, she was working hard on Yelina's workload and sharing the bulk of Frank's as he was still on sick leave, and all the while there was the lingering knowledge that their Wonderland serial killer was still out there. Yelina was dead but the world was still spinning and no one could seem to make it stop even for just a moment so they could try and deal with their grief and shock, and compose themselves better.

"I thought Delko was getting me," the boy commented sullenly as he stared down at his dirty trainers.

'Delko,' Ridley thought dryly, 'I wonder who he picked that up from.'

"Why, would you have stayed at school if you knew I was coming?" she queried calmly.

"No," he retorted sardonically as if she was being stupid.

Ridley smiled. "Good to know it's not personal. It's quite cold; did you really want fresh air this badly?" She noted that he wasn't wearing a coat and wondered if he had left it at school or if Tim hadn't had the sense to insist he wore one to school.

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"Where's your coat?" Ridley pried.

"Speed said he didn't care what I wore as long as I got my ass dressed and in the car because we were late." Raymond actually gave a small smirk to his trainers at this. "I like him, if he'd come I wouldn't have walked. I asked him to come," he added moodily, "but he just told me to get out and go study."

"You like him because he gets you takeaways because he can't cook and he lets you watch adult movies instead of helping with your homework," Ridley pointed out as she shook her head chidingly. One night, Tim had only had to mind the kid for one night until Calleigh had gotten off her shift and according to the blonde the traces expert had failed at childminding spectacularly.

Raymond finally looked over at Ridley with Yelina's beautiful, brown eyes and frowned. "I don't like you," he said angrily, "Uncle Horatio cancelled seeing us because of you, I heard my mum tell her friends, she liked you at work but she thought you were hiding something. Now you're trying to be her at work."

"I'm not," Ridley protested as she kept her face calm though she wondered when exactly Horatio had cancelled seeing his only family for her and felt a surge of guilt. Yelina had always been a sharp detective, she imagined the woman had picked up on the odd relationship between Ridley and Horatio all too easily and undoubtedly had wondered at it. "I'm just trying to finish her work for her," she attempted to explain, "your mum worked so hard, it shouldn't be in vain."

"Worked," Raymond repeated numbly. "It's always past tense now!" he shouted suddenly. "Mum was and mum did, I hate it! The teacher said she was a good person and it sounds like she's not anymore, like she's bad, but she's not, she's still a good person! She is a good person! I hate it, it was only days ago and already people are acting like she's in the past."

Ridley's brown-grey eyes sparked with realisation and she nodded. "It is horrible hearing that," she agreed, "your loved ones talked about like they're gone completely. I understand, my best friend died last year and the pain of hearing people talk about her in past tense like she didn't exist anymore was agonising. It's just...it is how people try to deal with it Raymond, they don't mean to offend you it's just it's their way of moving on from the pain.

Your mother is still around and part of her always will be but it's a part you can't see anymore and unfortunately the part that you can...that is gone now. When people use past tense it's...it's about the part of your mother than was flesh and blood, she was a wonderful, smart and loving person, but the other part of her, it's always in the present, and even if people don't acknowledge that or talk about it, it's still here, your mother is still in the present, loving you and watching you."

"If she loved me she wouldn't have left! Why was she there huh? Why was she in danger?" he demanded as he glared up at Ridley.

Ridley sighed. "It was her job, she was protecting other people and unfortunately things went wrong and your mother got injured helping others. She fought hard to stay though, you must know that Raymond, you saw her in the hospital, she tried for so long to survive but...but sometimes we don't win that fight. She did try though Raymond, she didn't choose to leave you, she was taken from you, from all of us."

"And now I'm alone," he retorted tearfully.

"Now that's not true," Ridley said seriously as she gave him a stern look, "you have your Uncle Horatio and-"

"He's not around," Raymond interrupted flatly, "even now, mum's...dead and he still keeps working and I don't see him, no one has time for me. All these people I don't even know who work with my uncle taking me back and forth like I'm a chore to be shared."

Ridley looked saddened at this as she felt sympathy for the young boy. "You're right," she agreed solemnly, "but no one means it to be that way. This was all unexpected and it's meant a great deal of change, for you, for your uncle and for us. Your uncle loved and still does love your mother a great deal and this has been very difficult for him and he's not able to cope with it so he throws himself into his work to avoid it. I know, I did the same thing when my partner died, it's how some of us react to grief, by not actually dealing with it but I think you understand that Raymond because you're doing the same thing, you didn't wait very long before going back to school."

"School's the same, or it should be," he grumbled, "home's...not. School has the same classes, same schedule, it's meant to be normal but people aren't being normal, they're either avoiding me or being too nice or they don't know how to talk to me, and I hate it! And when I get out, it's someone different every time, someone to pick me up, take me home, wait and stare at the clock until the sitter comes or my nanny or someone else. I'm tired of it, I want my life back, I want my mummy back!" He threw his head into his lap and started to sob.

"I know Raymond," Ridley tried to console him as she placed a hand lightly on his back, "when someone close to you dies you don't just lose them, you lose so much more, your whole way of living. You feel sick and everything around you just moves in a confusing blur and you never think it's going to be right again. Everything's a painful reminder of them and of the change and you just want to run away from it all but that won't fix it.

Look, things seem bleak now, and they won't ever be the way they were, that's true but they will be good again, that's also true, even if you don't think it. Even if you think that right now you are completely alone and lost, I promise you Raymond you're not, your mother left good people around to watch out for you for her, and your uncle loves you even if he isn't showing it too well right now. You will get through this and one day you will wake up and even though your mother is still gone the pain will be less and when you think of her you will be happy because it will be the good times you are thinking about, not the bad. It just...it takes time Raymond and you have to give it time."

The curly haired boy sniffled into his lap before lifting his head slowly and rubbing at his eyes. "So are you taking me home now?" he queried crossly. "To wait for grandma?"

"I'm taking you home," Ridley retorted brightly as she withdrew her hand, "because it is cold and you need to get changed, but then I'm going to ring Horatio and see if it's okay if I take you to do something normal and fun, if you want of course."

"Like what?" he queried hoarsely as he looked at her curiously.

Ridley shrugged. "I don't know, what's fun for a ten-year-old boy?"

"Pizza and a movie," he suggested hopefully.

Ridley felt her stomach squirm objectively but tried to ignore it. Her stomach had been tender for the past three days; she was certain it was due to not eating properly and working too hard and told herself it would be fine once things calmed down, if they calmed down. "Sure," she gave into his pleading stare.

"Can Speed come too?"

Ridley shook her head quickly. "Sorry, he's working a long shift," she answered hastily.

"Oh." Raymond looked a little disappointed. "He doesn't like me, does he?" he asked quietly.

"Of course he does," Ridley reassured with a convincing smile. The truth however was that Tim had sent her several expletive filled text messages referencing Raymond this morning and was always grumbling about the boy. Ridley didn't think it was personal she just didn't think Tim was the type of person who was good with children, unlike Calleigh who seemed to be a natural with Raymond. 'You owe me Tim,' she thought sternly. "So, can we get in the car now?" Ridley suggested.

Raymond nodded and stood up from the swing at last. "How did you find me anyway?" he queried curiously.

"I'm a detective," Ridley reminded him with a small smile, "it's my job."

* * *

Calleigh felt nervous as she stood outside her boss' door, she had never visited his house before and had managed to avoid it since Yelina's passing, until now. There was no else free to do it but someone had to because no one had heard from Horatio since he had finished a ridiculous twenty-two hour shift at eight o'clock this morning and there were rumours swirling that it was only thanks to the captain's orders that Horatio had actually gone home. Eric was still recovering and barely fit for the childminding he had insisted on helping out with, Tim was only just nearing the end of his own shift, and Ridley was leaving Raymond home to his grandmother.

When the door finally opened Calleigh's nerves faded away, replaced by concern as she realised she was glad she had come here after all because evidently someone had needed to. Horatio leaned against his doorframe with his right arm and seemed to stare through Calleigh with his bloodshot cerulean eyes. He looked so exhausted Calleigh imagined he was past the point of being aware of it, now numb and functioning on auto-pilot and he was almost untidy, well untidy for Horatio, certainly not untidy the way Tim was. His grey trousers were beltless, his white shirt was hanging out and his blazer and tie were missing.

"Good evening Calleigh," he greeted wearily, just about managing to inject some politeness into his voice.

The blonde realised the redhead wanted to be alone but she could smell the whiskey on his breath and decided that solitude was probably not a good thing for him right now. The man did deserve his peace to grieve and no one could blame him for drinking but there was a deadness in his eyes that alarmed Calleigh and made her certain that he wasn't grieving right now or even trying to accept what had happened, he was simply drinking away his free time until he could submerge his mind in his work again and continue to avoid the life changing tragedy he was going through. "Evening Horatio," she greeted chirpily, "can I come in?"

He stepped back from the doorway wearily, fixing her a small, forced smile as he did. "Of course," he said, still forcing the politeness into his voice.

The redhead led the way up the hall slowly, pausing briefly as if deliberating over where was actually suitable to go before he led the way into his living room.

The living room's patio doors were open onto the wooden porch where a half-empty glass decanter and half-full whiskey glass sat on a round, wooden table portraying a sad and telling scene. As she followed, Calleigh took her chance to take in the living room and her first glimpse of Horatio's personal and private life. On a coffee table was a small stack of newspaper articles and notes from work, all seemingly referencing the Wonderland Murderer, and on a table beside the couch were photographs in silver, rectangular frames depicting Raymond Caine Senior, Raymond Caine Junior, and Yelina, and beside the photographs was an out of place Easter bunny teddy. The blonde couldn't help but stop and stare at the Easter bunny, when she read 'Happy Easter from NY' in black font on its blue baseball cap her suspicions only deepened.

Horatio kept walking, oblivious to Calleigh's prying, heading towards the open patio doors.

Calleigh followed her superior at a slower pace, noting the unused fireplace with a silver NYPD badge resting in a cracked glass box on its black top beside a tacky snow globe with the Statue of Liberty inside it, and a single photograph inside a horizontal, brass frame depicting all of them at Ridley's recent birthday party minus Frank, who had taken the picture. Calleigh felt tears budding at her eyes as she saw how close Horatio and Yelina were in the picture, their arms about each other, Yelina glancing slightly in the redhead's direction whilst he gave the camera a calm, warm smile.

"I broke the box when I learned about Ridley being Riddle," Horatio admitted coolly, "that badge was just a reminder of the cop that failed her." He was standing in the doorway, hand against a glass door as he leaned against it and stared back at Calleigh, mistaking where her gaze had fallen. "She only properly forgave me in Vegas." He gave a bitter smile at this. "It's probably the only reason why I don't completely regret the trip." He nodded and pointed at the snow globe with a wavering hand. "She bought the snow globe there, bad joke I guess." He laughed awkwardly, prompting Calleigh to glance his way.

The blonde gave her superior a sympathetic smile before she started walking towards him. "You went to Vegas to protect her," she reminded him, "and it was a good call," she assured, "the cartel came, just like you thought they would."

"I should have known when they couldn't get Ridley they would go for Emily," he said angrily before turning with a slight sway and continued out to the porch.

"You're not psychic," Calleigh chided, "and you couldn't be everywhere, there is always a risk with our jobs, we all know this and accept it, and Yelina knew it too."

Horatio collapsed in his seat ungracefully, crossed his right leg over his left and reached for his tumbler of whiskey before gesturing to the free seat opposite him with one hand. "It's a nice evening," he murmured.

Calleigh looked out to the burning amber sun setting on a gold kissed, endless ocean and sighed, it was a nice evening, what a pity she didn't feel like enjoying it. She occupied the seat opposite her boss and breathed in the sea air, she was a little surprised Horatio had a beach view just like her having assumed he was still attached to his city roots like Tim. "I am so sorry about what happened to Yelina," Calleigh said softly, "I'm sorry it happened, I'm sorry I couldn't protect her better, I'm sorry she was there, God Horatio I'm just sorry."

"It's not your fault," he retorted quietly, "it's mine. I knew about the mission, I didn't like it but I didn't do enough to stop it and if I hadn't been out of town it sure as hell wouldn't have happened. You and Eric certainly shouldn't have been involved, especially not twice. I'm sorry about that Calleigh, truly, after the first time you shouldn't-"

"We insisted," the blonde cut him off firmly with a serious stare as she reached out a hand to grasp his, holding his tumbler in midair, "and don't you apologise, Eric and I are adults and we have been at this job long enough to know the consequences. You are our boss Horatio but not our parent or guardian, okay?"

He gave her a sad, half-smile before glancing down at her hand and then back up at her. "Guardian," he repeated the word awkwardly, "I'm Raymond's now but I don't think I can be."

"You can," the blonde assured as she withdrew her hand, "and you will be good at it."

"I'm not so sure."

"No one is first time around," the blonde retorted.

"Do you want a drink?" Horatio suddenly offered.

Calleigh contemplated a refusal but realised experience with her dad made her too quick to scorn someone seeking solace in a glass, maybe trying to meet Horatio halfway would be a better approach, and so she nodded and said sternly, "just one."

Horatio nodded, downed what was left in his glass and stood up. "I'll get you a glass," he said calmly.

Calleigh nodded and watched him go. While she waited, she looked out at the setting sun and wondered if Yelina had ever sat on this porch with the redhead or if any woman had for that matter. For a confident, warm and successful man he seemed to cut a lonely figure. 'Maybe having Raymond could do him some good,' she thought to herself, 'if only to give him some company.' She wondered if any of her co-workers had ever seen his house, did Eric know an article about his involvement in a drugs' bust was resting on a bookshelf between Sleepy Hollow and The Hound of the Baskervilles, did Tim know there were several magazines about motorbikes in a magazine rack, undoubtedly purchased when Tim had gotten his bike because Horatio definitely didn't have an interest in them, and did Ridley know about the Easter bunny or the books she had recommended? At least now Calleigh knew about the photograph of her getting an award for her guns expertise, despite it being sandwiched between The Hound of the Baskervilles and a stack of books about drugs and cartels.

The redhead returned at last with another tumbler, which he filled along with his own. He lifted his and looked at Calleigh thoughtfully as she picked up her own. "I don't know what to say," he confessed.

"Let's toast to Yelina's memory then," Calleigh suggested, "and a hopeful future, because we all deserve that."

Horatio nodded grimly. "To Yelina then," he said quietly, "and a hopeful future."

They clinked their glasses but it was a hollow sound and Horatio was quick to take a gulp from his before setting it down hastily and turning away from the blonde just as quick.

"Horatio," she protested softly as she realised he was trying to hide his budding tears.

"Don't," he protested in a stern voice, "I just...need a moment." He shook his head wearily, seeming to clear the dampness in his eyes before he fixed a wounded stare on Calleigh. "All I keep thinking is, if I could do it again what would I do? Stay and risk Ridley to save Yelina or go to spare Ridley and doom Yelina? Yelina was family, my brother's wife, my nephew's mother, my...well I love her so much Calleigh and I knew her for years but I've only known Ridley for two. Ridley deserves a happy life though, she's already been hell through twice, once is enough for anyone, she shouldn't have to keep fighting for that. Yelina has a young son but Ridley's trying to have a relationship with Tim and that's been hell too, I don't know Calleigh, it's easy to say I didn't make that choice but I did, I chose to go to Vegas to save Ridley."

"Horatio you didn't know what would happen," the blonde reminded him, "you couldn't have. You didn't choose between Ridley and someone else, okay? You just chose to keep Ridley safe, that was it; the only choice was keeping her in danger or keeping her safe and you made the only sane choice."

"Ridley and someone else," he repeated bitterly with a grimace, "Ridley and Felicity Chase, was I making up for that choice? The choice to go down one prison instead of another, to find one imprisoned teenager instead of another?"

"Horatio it wasn't like that," the blonde said sternly, "you did not know. You can't blame yourself for those who don't get saved, none of us can carry that burden, we can try to help everyone but we're never going to completely succeed. Instead of carrying the guilt of those who are lost, who are injured, who die, we should live with the happiness from the knowledge of those we do help. That's all we can do Horatio, just keep trying to help, be proud of what we do achieve and keep going. Ridley doesn't want you wallowing in guilt, she's forgiven you, and I can promise you Yelina wouldn't want you wallowing in guilt either, it wasn't your fault, it was the cruel nature of her job."

The redhead sighed and nodded before taking another gulp from his glass. "I know, it's what I tell you guys when things go wrong, I know but it's hard to accept."

* * *

Tim gave Detective John Hagen a wary glance as the detective stopped him at the door of the laboratory. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this?" Tim quipped tiredly.

John gave him a dark smile in response. "I got a call, I believe you guys wanted to know if anything related to a magician going by the Wonderful Llorrac came up."

Tim immediately looked interested.

"Well," John continued, "a girl called Rachel Bridges and four friends went out tonight and got stopped in the street by a man wearing a white rabbit mask who asked their names and invited them into a free show. She says the show was brief, lasted approximately twenty minutes and then they left to get coffee just ten minutes up the street. Only while they were walking, her best friend Connie Queens and Connie's boyfriend Jack Greendale vanished. It only happened just under an hour ago. Of course no one has any interest, no real time has passed but I thought you guys might."

"Fuck," Tim cursed eloquently. The names, Connie Queens and Jack Greendale, it was no coincidence, the guy couldn't have resisted that. "Where did this happen?" he demanded.

"Near South Beach in an abandoned theatre. Speedle if you're planning on taking this you can't go alone."

Tim rubbed the back of his neck with a frown, it was stiff and he was tired, it had been a long day but if there were lives at risk and no one else was reacting to it he knew he couldn't refuse. "I have to, this is our guy and I can guarantee he's got those kids."

"Well I have an address for the magician's show, in the old theatre, and the coffee house is just ten minutes away so it's a small radius for him to have acted. If you want to get your kit to process the scene I'll come with you in case something has happened and there are hostages. Unfortunately though I'm all you might get, we're short staffed as it is and after the business on the beach things are even worse."

Tim's frown deepened. "How did he get two?" he pondered darkly.

"You don't know that he did, what about the other CSIs?"

Tim shook his head. "I'll give Calleigh a text, and Horatio...he doesn't need this."

"What about Detective Moon?" Detective Hagen pried.

Tim shook his head. "No, she's been doing double shifts all week and minding that-" he hesitated over the word 'brat' and said hastily, "Yelina's son, she's fried, I don't want her out in this mess."

"Okay, well get what you need Speedle and I'll see you in the car park."

Tim shrugged before he headed back into the lab for his things. After packing his case and checking his camera for film he took out his gun and glanced down at it warily. He caught a flashback of a taunting rabbit mask before swallowing hard and opening the clip. It was fully loaded.

It took just over forty minutes for Tim and Detective Hagen to reach the scene. It was a rundown theatre that looked abandoned save for the cardboard sign half-hidden behind the theatre's rusting fence. Tim took a photograph before snapping on a pair of gloves and tugging it out. The font on the cardboard advertised 'The Wonderful Llorrac' in red paint. "Well this looks legit," Tim commented sarcastically as he set it down and took another photograph.

"A serial killer masquerading as magician," Tim summed up as he checked the gate for prints, of course there were a dozen partials, "guy should have stayed in Vegas."

They opened the gate carefully and headed up the weed covered stone path that led up to the worn, wooden building. They searched the path carefully but there was nothing to indicate a struggle and too much rubbish amongst the skeletal trees and weeds for them to tell what might be a clue and what might not. When they reached the double doors of the theatre they saw a wooden sign there that simply said, 'NO TRESSPASSING' in red paint.

"Now if you saw this, would you still go in?" Detective Hagen quipped sardonically. It was hanging on the left door just, sitting crooked on a rusting nail.

"What if they didn't see it?" Tim suggested as he took another photograph.

Detective Hagen looked to his colleague warily. "Well if they didn't then someone came back and hung it up."

They looked at the building again, the windows were dark and dirty and it appeared that whatever curtains were left were drawn, no clues there. Tim reached for the door handle carefully with a gloved hand and tested it as gently as he could, it turned. "Well it's still open but we should look for a back entrance. The coffee place is only ten minutes from here and there were two of them, lingering behind a group. It's a busy enough street; there can't have been a struggle, so what else? How did he get them?"

"Again Speedle, that's assuming he did," the taller man retorted warily. "It's just their friend who thinks it's suspicious, she says they weren't the type to just run off and she Connie's mobile several times and got no answer."

"Right, well I think he lured them back. It was over an hour ago now so it's possible he's already got their bodies in the trunk of a car but I don't think so. Look around, the streets are still busy but this place isn't, no one in their right mind is going to come here looking for a magic show. Either he's still here or he's only just left but either way we should probably call for back up and find another way in," Tim suggested. Catching the detective's wilting stare he added dryly, "humour me Detective Hagen. I got shot by this guy once I'm not eager for a repeat."

Detective Hagen knew Tim Speedle wasn't one for hunches so he decided to go along with it. It could be something, the something they had been praying for or it could be nothing but he knew with a serial killer they just couldn't risk it. So he tugged out his mobile and made the call before then drawing his gun and following the now armed Tim around the theatre in a low crouch.

When they reached the back of the building they found another entrance, through the basement but it had a rusted padlock on it, so they had to forgo the element of surprise and wait impatiently for back up. It came almost an hour later as no one was in a rush to follow up a CSI hunch despite a detective insisting on it and it was only when it arrived with Calleigh in tow that Tim guessed why anyone had bothered to show up at all.

"Hey," Detective Hagen greeted Calleigh hastily as he took a step towards her.

"Hi" the blonde retorted politely before she looked to Tim. "You think this could be our guy, he could be inside?"

Tim shrugged. "I don't know for sure," he confessed, "there could be him, there could be hostages or there could be no one but we've wasted enough time out here debating the issue."

"Well let us make an entrance then," Detective Hagen suggested as he looked to the four cops that had come with Calleigh.

Tim and Calleigh watched as the officers checked the door before attempting an entrance, the doors weren't locked but something was definitely blocking them. Forgoing all caution they decided to break the lower right window, after that everything seemed to pass by quickly. After two made it through the window shards and removed the broken furniture pushed against the front doors everyone entered hastily and armed. The fact that someone had taken the trouble to block the doors gave an indication of a hostile body still inhabiting the building.

As it was a theatre it was a large building and they debated over where to go whilst Tim suggested the main performance area, certain the man's love for theatrics wouldn't disappoint them now. They moved quickly knowing he would be on the alert now thanks to the noise they had made but it was hard, the corridors were narrow, there were holes in the floor and the place was almost completely shrouded in darkness and they were relying on the officer's torch lights.

Tim entered the room first, his brown eyes went wide and his gun immediately went off as he let a yell.

"Tim!" Calleigh cried out in alarm.

"Jesus fuck!" Tim exclaimed widely as he turned about in alarm, the whites of his eyes showing as he pointing his gun but didn't know whether to shoot or not. Eyeless white rabbit faces seemed to be everywhere, facing him, mocking him, threatening him. He realised only when a beam of light struck off near what, highlighting a crack in the image that it was mirrors. Mirrors lined up on the aisles, carefully positioned to create the illusion of more than one. "Shit," he snapped as he realised there was just one mask, resting on a dummy as Calleigh revealed.

"Up there!" Detective Hagen snapped.

Tim finally looked ahead to the stage as he heaved out several deep breaths and tasted vomit. There it was, an abandoned show, no crude message, just a half-made display of a queen and her knave, sitting at a table sharing tarts. Both were tied to their chairs, the woman had a plastic gold crown on her head, the boy a heart shaped hat, it was a poor display but only because it had evidently been interrupted.

Calleigh hurried up the stage to the pair, neither was missing their eyes, the boy had several deep lacerations and foam at his mouth and the girl. The girl let out a low moan. "She's alive!" Calleigh yelled. "She's alive!"

It was late by the time Calleigh and Tim finished processing the scene correctly, that was all Tim knew. They headed back to the lab with their collection of evidence in silence, daring to be hopeful that they would finally have enough evidence to lead them to their guy.

"So how's Horatio?" Tim finally asked as he headed to the lab wearily, now thoroughly exhausted.

"He's okay," Calleigh answered carefully, "not great but not the worst either I suppose."

Tim nodded tiredly. "Yeah, it'll take time."

"What about you Speed, are you okay?"

Tim frowned at the blonde and grumbled, "fine Calleigh just tired."

The blonde frowned back at him. "Speed you panicked," she accused.

"I reacted," he corrected hotly.

Her frown deepened and she shook her head at him crossly. "Speed I get it alright, you got shot and it's still having an effect on you but admit it for crying out loud and get some help."

"I had help," he snarled, "I had therapy and I finished it, let it go."

"Damn it you're so stubborn sometimes and you wonder why Ridley gets on like that? It's irresponsible you know, you're not just risking yourself but others too, what if that bullet had ricocheted?"

Tim turned cold at that, recalling how Ridley had once did something very similar not that long ago. He swallowed hard and clenched his fists slightly before bowing his head in defeat. "Point taken," he said quietly. "I'm sorry Calleigh it's just hard, I think I'm over it then I see that fucking mask, it was in Vegas too, it just...it triggers something, brings it all back, I don't know."

Calleigh's clear blue gaze softened slightly and she nodded. "That's what post traumatic stress can be like, sometimes you think you're over it because it's not always there but it's actually just dormant waiting for something to activate it. You've faced the fear of death and the gun Tim, you're over that I think but now you need to face the fear the unknown man I think, that's the issue with the mask, no face for the guy, no identity, that's pretty scary. I mean sure we have a theory about his identity but nothing concrete. You know that's probably Ridley's problem too, she's never had an identity for the Suburban Legends killer, to her more than anyone he's like a bogeyman, more man than monster."

Tim paled slightly as he felt a surge of guilt at Calleigh's words. There was an identity for Ridley's attacker they just thought Ridley would be worse off knowing it. "Maybe," he said moodily.

"Just...look you can be reckless and stubborn but it paid off tonight, we've hopefully saved the girl and that's because of you, you reacted to the news Tim and you pursued it, I mean I criticise you for being that way and then it saves someone's life." Calleigh gave a tight, embarrassed smile at this. "I'm just afraid of a time when it won't save someone, it will endanger them or you so take care Speed, please."

"Right, I'll...look into therapy or something," the traces expert relented, "but right now I'm going home to bed."


	23. Chapter 22- One Year On

Calleigh was a little disheartened to see the look of frustration on Eric's face when he finally opened the door to her. When his brown gaze turned to surprise she only felt a little better. "I brought oranges," she said cheerfully as held up the small, jute bag she held in her right hand. "You know...they're full of vitamins and all that, should help you get better. Um, is something wrong?"

Eric wanted to smile as he filled with elation at the sight of the beautiful blonde but there was a niggling of irritation and worry that prevented him. He always appreciated the sight of Calleigh, the sight of her happy blue eyes and warm smile always seemed to make his pain lessen and the burning in his back a little more bearable. "It's the twenty-fourth," he said flatly.

"Right...and?" Calleigh just looked confused. She was tired from her late night action with Speed and had spent this morning with their potential witness and the family members of her deceased boyfriend. Their witness, Connie Queens, was in intensive care and incapable of talking at the moment but Calleigh was daring to hope. It was frustrating, their evidence was scant and if Connie hadn't seen the face of her attacker then they had nothing just theories, they needed their murderous magician unmasked. They could connect the masked magician to Vegas and Estella van le Rael, and to buying LSD and the rare drug Fatalis, which had been used to poison the twins, but they knew, frustratingly, that none of that would hold up in court, anyone could be beneath the mask, even more than one person could be wearing it as unlikely as that was.

"And it's been one year," Eric reminded her with a dark look, "since Ridley was buried alive."

Calleigh's mouth made a small o shape as her eyes widened in surprise. "I didn't..." She shook her head in annoyance. "God I should give her a call."

"I spoke to her this morning," Eric admitted wearily, "just briefly, I...I didn't draw attention to it, I was just seeing how she was and she was brief, said she had to go to work. I don't know though, something like that...I tried to ring her again a few minutes ago, to see if she was free for lunch but I've got no answer and I've rang Speed too, to see if he's actually seen her today but he's ignoring me as usual." He sighed angrily. He then gave Calleigh an apologetic look. "Sorry, I should invite you in." He stepped back from the doorway and gave her a small smile. "I'm probably worrying over nothing, she's seems pretty together lately and she said she was okay but it's on the news you know, they couldn't resist, especially with this Wonderland nut job still running about and her connection to that cartel business. I guess I'm sensitive to it given he got me as well...I mean I suffered only a fraction of what she did but it still bothers me sometimes."

Calleigh pursed her lips slightly as she thought about what she had said to Tim about post traumatic stress sometimes being triggered, an anniversary of something terrible was probably a good trigger. "I'll give her a ring," she decided as she stepped into Eric's apartment. She followed Eric into his modest kitchen, setting her bag on the table before tugging out her mobile and dialling. Her frown deepened when it went to Ridley's voicemail. "Voicemail," she murmured warily, "she must still be working."

"Probably," Eric said, feeling guilty for getting Calleigh worried now too. "Look, let's not worry, I sent her a text asking her to ring when she's free, I said to Speed a few days ago about doing something together tonight, just to keep her mind off things. Anyway, let's have some of those oranges and..." He tailed off with an unsure look.

Calleigh took his right hand tenderly and smiled up at him. It was good to see him on his feet again even if he did have dark circles under his eyes and was evidently still in pain. He was doing well despite his horrific injuries and desperate to get back to work. Unable to help out at work he had been doing his best with Raymond Jnr but it was difficult to entertain a ten-year-old boy in a bachelor pad, especially when Eric was slower than usual and tired from his medication.

"Let's watch some television," Calleigh suggested, "I'll cut up the oranges." She released Eric's hand; pushing back a strand of her blonde hair and flipping open her mobile again. She sent Ridley a quick text before turning her attention to the oranges. It was hard to ignore the prickle of concern burning in her but she reminded herself that Ridley was working extra shifts and probably just had her phone on silent.

"Hey Eric, when's the last time you cleaned in here?" the blonde queried teasingly as she looked at the dirty dishes stacking up beside the sink pointedly.

Eric blushed faintly. "I'm injured remember?" he retorted with a bashful smile. "And I wasn't expecting company."

Calleigh shook her head scornfully before grabbing a clean plate. She peeled the oranges on the plate and separated the segments before following Eric through to his modest living room. It was slightly untidy but clean, and thanks to Calleigh's gifts of a blanket and cushions the green couch was pleasantly comfortable. Calleigh sat her plate on the glass coffee table as Eric flicked on the television before sitting beside the blonde and giving her another small smile.

Calleigh instinctively moved into him with a grin, leaning against him gently, her grin widening when he raised his arm for her to curl up under. After what had happened and everything they had been through Calleigh had realised that her fears of their relationship going wrong were nothing in comparison to the fear of never knowing how their relationship could go like Horatio and Yelina. They had yet to tell anyone, not wanting to overshadow the tragedy of Yelina's passing, but Calleigh and Eric had decided to make their relationship official.

Eric turned and gave Calleigh a soft kiss. "Thanks for coming round," he said sincerely.

"My pleasure."

* * *

Tim stepped out of the Miami-Dade headquarters with a grim expression, it was a cool, grey day and he felt it was apt for his mood. He had debated about coming in today but Calleigh's words last night had gotten to him and so he had reluctantly made and attended a session with the psychiatrist. Now he was thoroughly regretting the decision having lost patience with the psychiatrist after exchanging several heated words with him.

He tugged out his phone as he rubbed at his dark hair wearily and frowned as he saw missed calls from Eric. Curious, he started dialling his friend.

"What's up?" Tim queried bluntly as he adjusted his sunglasses.

"Hey Speed, about time you called," Eric greeted cheerfully. "Look, I was just wondering if you've seen Ridley today."

"Not yet," Tim retorted wearily, "I've been busy."

"Well have you talked to her?" Eric queried, sounding slightly surprised.

"No," Tim answered bluntly, "why, what's wrong?"

"Seriously man, it's the twenty-fourth. Look I spoke to her this morning and she seemed fine but I just thought maybe you'd actually seen her or something to be sure."

"Shit, one year," Tim grumbled, "fuck, fuck. I had a rough night, I'll ring her now." He hung up the phone before Eric could reply and let out several loud exclamations, earning several looks of astonishment and disapproval in the car park. One year, how the hell had he woken up and just forgotten that? He immediately started ringing Ridley's mobile even as he headed to his motorbike. "Come on, answer," he murmured moodily. When the phone rang onto voicemail he let out another curse before swapping his shades for his helmet and climbing onto his bike. He wasn't even sure what shifts Ridley was meant to be working today, was she still at work, was she at home, was she with Raymond Jnr? He hadn't bothered to find out, after his grief last night he had gone home only to spend most of the night awake and thinking too much about rabbit masks. 'And I told Eric it wasn't a date I would ever forget,' he thought sardonically as he turned on his engine.

It took a little longer than planned to reach Ridley's house thanks to the lunch time traffic but Tim still felt he had made it in better time that he ever could have in his car. He was relieved to see Ridley's battered Mustang in her driveway and was quick to park his bike and hasten to her front door. He knocked it twice and when he got no answer he tried her mobile again but once again it rang off to voicemail. Frustrated, he tugged out his keys and unlocked the front door with his spare key before entering the house. He sat his helmet on the table in the hall, shut the door and called out, "Ridley."

Tim thought he could smell burnt toast and hear faint voices that he figured were coming from the television. He headed to the living room and found the door open and hastened into the room. He glanced down as his shoes crunched on something and saw a shattered cup on the ground with a pool of cold coffee around it. He looked ahead with a frown and saw Ridley on the floor with her knees hunched up to her chin and both hands clamped tightly against her ears as she shook her head repeatedly and murmured, "stop that noise, God make it stop, please."

Tim glanced briefly to the television and his frown tightened as he saw a news reporter with a colourful photograph of a barely recognisable Ridley being pulled out of a coffin by Horatio. The caption was 'One Year On' before it flashed to a photograph of Estella van le Rael and the reporter started talking about the 'Wonderland Murders'. Tim searched for the remote hastily and spotted it on the coffee table. He grabbed it and turned the television off quickly.

"Dirt," Ridley murmured, "oh God I keep hearing the dirt, he's burying me! He's burying me!"

Tim crouched down before the shaken woman and gripped her right shoulder, immediately prompting her to jolt back against her couch with a look of alarm. Her eyes filled with tears when she realised it was Tim before she started sobbing. "I keep hearing it; I keep hearing the dirt being shovelled on top of me! God I hear it, over and over, more and more, it won't stop!"

Tim sighed and gently prised the woman's hands down from her ears. He looked startled when she immediately threw herself against him with another sob and started quivering against him. "I'm sorry," he said to her sympathetically, "I...I forgot the date. I had a long night; I should have called or come round this morning."

"I keep hearing it Tim," she choked out, "and it won't stop, God that awful noise won't stop! I...I turned on the television, went to the kitchen, got some coffee and put on some toast, I thought I was fine, I knew the date but I thought I was okay and...and then I came in and it was on there. That fucking coffin! God now I keep hearing the dirt being thrown on top of me and it won't stop!"

Tim hugged her close and weaved his right hand through her dark hair. "Would it help to get out of here?" he suggested. "We could go somewhere for the day?"

"I...I don't know," she murmured miserably as she shook her head against him, "God just make the noise stop. I can see those eyes again, those horrible, violet eyes, oh God it just doesn't stop."

"Hey," Tim protested as he pulled back slightly to give her a stern look, "don't think about Ridley, I know it's hard but you have done so well this year, don't let the media's bullshit drag you back down. Come on, I'm not working today so tell me where you'd like to go, anywhere in Miami, name it and we'll go and we will forget about this. Then tonight Eric was talking about watching movies with him and Calleigh so we can do that, they will probably be terrible movies knowing him but he has been asking about you and he's probably getting cabin fever. Come on Ridley, live in the now."

Ridley swallowed hard as she tried to focus on what Tim was saying but it was hard as all she could hear was the soft and repetitive sound of crumbled dirt being heaved on top of her.

Tim kissed her brow gently when she let out a low moan and said a little more firmly, "come on Ridley, where do you want to go? Just name somewhere and we'll go."

She shook her head and burrowed it back against him. Tim sighed, adjusting her as he usually did at night when she started whimpering so that she could his heartbeats. "It's okay," he soothed as he started to stroke her dark hair. "I promise Ridley, you're not there anymore, no one is burying you and that guy is dead. Horatio and I found you, you're out of that hole, don't let the media drag you back into it."

She tensed when her doorbell rang. "I...should...I should..."

"I'll get it," Tim said as he stood, urging her up with him before he placed her down on the couch and gave her a look of reassurance. "Think about what we should do today," he suggested as the doorbell rang again. He sighed before heading out of the living room hastily and up the corridor to open the door with a scowl.

Horatio tugged off his shades and gave the traces' expert a calm look. "Ridley didn't answer her phone, how is she today?" the redhead was straight to the point.

Knowing Horatio wouldn't be fobbed off or persuaded to leave without seeing her, Tim didn't bother with a lie, instead he answered bluntly, "not good, she had the television on and they started showing her in that coffin, fucking vultures."

Horatio nodded sympathetically, he had seen the news today and knew what would happen. It had made the redhead just as angry as Tim, wasn't it enough that they had already done it once this year? "Can I talk to her?"

Tim didn't know what to reply with, he feared Ridley getting angry with him if he let Horatio see her but he knew his superior wasn't going to just walk away. "Sure," he muttered as he stepped back from the door. "I want to get her out of here," he admitted, "away from the house and out for the day." He sighed. "Distract her with something."

"Good idea," Horatio answered calmly as he stepped in and shut the door behind him. "Of course you've brought your bike so how are you going to take her anywhere?"

Tim frowned. "I can go get my car," he grumbled before leading the way to the living room. He was please to see Ridley looking a little more stable, her eyes were bloodshot and watery, her face blotchy and red and there was still a very slight quiver but no more violent shaking or sobbing. She looked at Horatio at first in surprise and then in embarrassment as she rubbed at her eyes with one hand vainly.

Tim hovered in the living room awkwardly, unsure whether to sit beside Ridley or not, he wanted to continue consoling her but he didn't want to make her look weak in front of Horatio. It was too easy to recall how things had been earlier in the year with Ridley off due to an inability to control her trauma and Tim was fearful that it was all going to happen again.

"Ridley I saw the news," Horatio said calmly as he took a step towards her, "I hoped they wouldn't run the story again but I feared they might." He gave her a sympathetic look. "I know this isn't easy for you, every time you make progress something triggers a memory for you and I know it's twice as hard for you because you have two terrible periods in your life."

Ridley let out a harsh laugh at that and shook her head as she linked her fingers together in her lap. "Two terrible periods, seven days of hell when I was fourteen and one night when I was twenty-eight, it doesn't sound so bad does it? Just eight bad days in twenty-nine years," she said sarcastically. "I suppose I should be grateful the media doesn't know about those seven days, be grateful that for a long time no one knew. Why did it have to happen twice? I keep wondering, what did I do to deserve it? Twice I was imprisoned and tortured and raped," she said each word systematically with a bob of her head, "and left in a dark hole to die. Why twice? Why me?"

Tim burned with guilt as he took a step towards her and then hesitated. 'Why?' he thought numbly. 'Because you or your partner shot and killed your first attacker which led his screwed up son to seek revenge on you by repeating his father's actions. God I thought it would be worse for you to know that but now I'm wondering if it's worse that you don't and you keep torturing yourself looking for answers.' He swallowed hard and looked to Horatio, though he felt he was being a coward leaving his superior to make the decision over what to say.

Horatio took a seat beside Ridley and gave her a small, faded smile, given his own circumstances it was the best he could muster. "Ridley we all ask why, why did Yelina have to die? Why was Eric injured? Why was Speed shot? We let ourselves get weighed down with it when the fact is, the why doesn't always make sense or matter and it makes no difference because the bad thing has happened. You didn't do anything to deserve what happened to you, not with the Suburban killer and not with Hawkes.

Now, what you have to stop and realise for a moment is that you survived them, you survived Hawkes and you grew up to become a very successful detective, and then you survived the Suburban killer to continue being a successful detective and a strong, young woman, they didn't win, you won."

She shook her head. "I don't know, all it takes is for them to show that...that coffin and I lose it," she confessed with a shudder, "I see his face, I hear that dirt being shovelled on and I think I'm still trapped there, that some part of me will never get out of that hole, that some part of me never escaped the first hole."

Horatio placed an arm around her shoulders loosely and pulled her close. "You did get out Ridley, both times," he assured her, "because you're a survivor and a fighter. You got out and you helped so many people after, there are a lot of people in New York and Miami right now who wouldn't be alive if you didn't overcome what you went through and became the detective that you did.

I know it's still hard for you and it will be for a while, but you have to think of what you have accomplished, what you have been through since those days, you're not just the scared teenager who was abused by Hawkes or the detective who got buried alive. You're Detective Ridley Moon, the detective who found Glenn Kinskey, who worked out who killed Mr McDowell, who identified and helped lead us to a serial killer, who fought off the cartel to help Emily Jenkins. You're also the only woman I know who could get Eric interested in American History, Calleigh to watch a ballet performance the whole way through, Speed to slow dance and me to read a fictional horror story right to the end. Do you understand that Ridley? You're more than this tortured victim the media tries to make you think you are and the next time you're thinking about what happened remember all those good things instead, remember you're a clever, strong detective and a strange but special friend."

Ridley smiled up at the lieutenant gratefully, touched by his words and amused to see the glint of embarrassment in his cerulean eyes. "Thank you," she said sincerely.

Horatio nodded before withdrawing his arm. "Well, Speed says you're going out somewhere so you should hurry up and make the most of the day."

"You could come," Ridley offered suddenly, "you and Raymond." Her brown-grey gaze flickered over to Tim who could not conceal his annoyance at the thought of enduring Raymond Jnr for a day. "I er...I want to go to the zoo."

Tim's brown eyes widened as he swallowed down several sardonic retorts and a refusal that came to mind. "The...zoo," he repeated dubiously.

Ridley nodded even as she gave a sheepish smile and fiddled the camera charm on her bracelet. "You said anywhere," she reminded him softly.

Tim sighed. "I suppose I did," he murmured. 'But not anyone,' he thought dryly. "The zoo it is then."

"I wouldn't want to impose," Horatio said quickly.

"But you have the car," Tim reminded him pointedly, "whilst I only have my bike."

"And it would be good for Raymond too," Ridley said, "he's with his nanny, right? I mean, would it be okay?"

Horatio looked awkward as, like Tim, he found himself unable to refuse the bloodshot, pleading gaze he was now receiving. "I...I'm sure it would," he retorted calmly though he didn't know how he was going to deal with his young nephew for an entire afternoon.

"And maybe Calleigh and Eric," Ridley mused as she tugged out her mobile, "I forgot...my phone was ringing, both of them," she mused as she scanned down her missed calls. "And Uncle Chris," she murmured as she looked guilty. "I'd better ring them."

"I'll ring Yelina's mother," Horatio said, hiding his unease from his voice.

"And I'll do nothing," Tim muttered, seeing Ridley's look of scorn he added hastily, "okay, I'll ring Eric, you ring your uncle."

* * *

Eight o'clock in the evening found Ridley, Tim, Horatio, Calleigh and Eric on Horatio's wooden decking listening to the calm lull of the ocean as they sat beneath a clear autumn sky glancing up at the twinkling white stars. It was cold and Calleigh and Ridley were snuggled up beneath a brown, woollen blanket between Tim and Eric as Ridley showed Calleigh the photographs on her digital camera of their day at the zoo. Eric had had to decline going due to his injuries and Calleigh had reluctantly declined again, not wanting to leave Eric despite his protests, though they had insisted on uniting for a dvd night. Calleigh had been startled when Horatio had calmly offered his own house to house the night of bad movies.

"Ridley there are like twenty photos of giraffes on there," Eric scolded as he peered down at the camera in Calleigh's hands.

"We were feeding them for forty minutes," Tim complained mournfully.

"Raymond liked it," Ridley grumbled.

"For fifteen minutes," Tim replied, "seriously, you put a ten-year-old boy off giraffes, that's a skill."

"Any lions?" Eric quipped hopefully.

"We avoided the big cats," Horatio said calmly, "we saw enough at the circus." He was sitting on a wooden chair, one leg crossed over the other as he looked at the dark ocean thoughtfully.

"Right," Eric commented hastily as he realised his error, "well what about wolves?"

"There was a Singing Dog and African Hunting Dogs," Ridley answered.

"All of which we saw for about ten minutes," Tim murmured, "because we had to go back to the giraffes." He winced when Ridley elbowed him sharply as Calleigh laughed.

"That's a good one of you and the fox Horatio," Calleigh said happily as she looked at a photograph of Horatio leaning against a fence facing the camera with a red fox standing behind him looking inquisitively at the photographer.

"You know I think I see the similarity," Eric jested, "and now I finally get your Halloween costume H."

Calleigh laughed at a photograph of Tim making a face of disgust at an anaconda eating before smiling at one of Ridley holding Raymond's hand and pointing at the zebras. "That's a nice one," she said to Ridley sincerely, "you know you'll make a good mum one day."

"In another five years time," Tim said quickly, "I like my child free life right now."

Eric laughed as Calleigh rolled her eyes in scorn and Ridley bowed her head wordlessly.

"Well," Calleigh said as she passed the camera back to Ridley, "it looks like you had a good day."

Ridley smiled as she accepted the camera. "I did," she said sincerely.

"One to remember," Horatio remarked softly as he stood up.

Ridley smiled up at him and nodded in agreement.

"Anyway," Eric said with a grin, "Phantom of the Rue Morgue isn't going to watch itself."

"Tragic," Tim commented sardonically, "and where did you find this nonsense again?"

"Ridley," Eric answered merrily as he stood up slowly with a wince.

Tim frowned down at Ridley and remarked dryly, "I should have known."

"It's about the first fictional detective, C. Auguste Dupin," Ridley explained.

"I'm in it for the killer gorilla," Eric said brightly with a grin.

"Okay neither of you pair are ever going to be allowed to pick a movie again," Tim retorted as he stood up, pulling Ridley and the blanket with him.

"I think I might have to agree," Calleigh retorted as she gave Eric an apologetic grin.

They headed back into Horatio's living room, Calleigh and Eric occupying the three seated couch whilst Tim and Ridley took the two seated couch and Horatio headed for the single sofa. "This is a three seater Horatio," Calleigh said pointedly, "come join us."

The redhead shook his head politely until Calleigh started patting the couch beside her and Eric remarked teasingly, "come on H Calleigh doesn't smell that bad. Ouch!" He winced at the sharp nudge he received to his ribs from the blonde.

Horatio sighed in surrender and took a seat beside Calleigh. "Alright," he murmured.

The night wore on steadily and by eleven o'clock Tim and Ridley had nodded off beside each other, prompting Calleigh to fix the blanket around them and Eric to take a photograph on his mobile. Just after midnight, Calleigh roused the pair again and the four headed off in a taxi together, as Calleigh's house was closest the taxi headed there first. Neither Tim nor Ridley said anything except warm farewells when Calleigh and Eric exited together, Eric blushing madly as he did, though Ridley did give the blonde a knowing smile whilst Tim decided he would torment his friend about it tomorrow. Tim and Ridley then headed on to Ridley's house together where they settled peacefully in Ridley's bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

 _I think we're nearing the end again :-o probably only a couple more chapters or so to go. I'll admit it, I do have ideas for a sequel so if anyone's interested let me know :-) As always thanks for lovely reviews and favs and please keep them coming!_


	24. Chapter 23- A Hotel of Wonder

It was now the 9th of December, over two weeks since Connie Queens and Jack Greendale had been attacked and Jack had been brutally murdered. Connie Queens had only properly woken up three days ago and only this morning had the police been given access to her. They had gotten lucky; Connie had seen her attacker and was able to give a detailed description to the sketch artist. There was no way of knowing if it was Rothdale but at least they now had a lead and a witness. They were hopeful that the prints and DNA from their other Wonderland crime scenes would all link to the one person.

Eric was relieved to finally return to Miami-Dade headquarters and felt an odd jolt of joy as he stepped through the doors. He was still in pain and on medication and not allowed on any field work but Horatio had consented to him doing lab work and admin work until he was completely fit again. He headed to ballistics to call in with Calleigh and was surprised to find Tim there.

Tim glanced up at his friend and looked slightly embarrassed as he paused what he was doing. "Welcome back Delko," he said sincerely.

Eric grinned back at him. "It's good to be back, are you cleaning your gun Speed?"

"Yes he is," Calleigh answered chirpily as she emerged from the shooting room and tugged up her orange tinted goggles.

"You make it sound like I'm being punished," Tim grumbled as he resumed cleaning his Jericho.

"Not punished, trained," Calleigh corrected happily as she stepped over to survey the weapon. "Better," she praised.

"How long have you been here?" Eric quipped.

"An hour," Tim retorted moodily as he frowned. "I thought it would take ten minutes."

"And that's your problem," the blonde scolded him before she smiled at Eric. "Welcome back to work Eric! Speed and I finally got a lead on the Wonderland case; we're just waiting for Ridley to come in so we can do some interrogating."

"Interrogating?" Eric echoed.

"Some drug users Frank lifted might have seen our guy without his mask," Tim explained, "and are willing to give us a lead in exchange for some leniency."

"We're also hoping their description will match Connie's," Calleigh added eagerly.

"Seriously? That's great!" Eric enthused. "So where is Ridley?"

"She was feeling a bit sick this morning, sore stomach or something, so she took the morning off," Tim said dismissively, "but she's on her way now."

"So sympathetic," Calleigh scorned with a disapproving shake of her head. "We need to wait for Horatio too; he's collecting Raymond Jnr from school."

"Ah shit I've to take the little bugger tomorrow," Tim lamented. He winced when Calleigh clipped his head lightly with one hand.

"His name is Raymond; don't call him mean things," the blonde said, "and no McDonalds tomorrow Speed."

"Yeah I know, Ridley's already told me off," Tim complained as Eric snickered at him.

It took another twenty minutes before Ridley finally arrived just after five with Horatio close behind, having once again narrowly missed the chance to claim his own parking space. After Calleigh got them up to date with the case they headed to police station where Frank had four drug users ready to deal.

Ridley and Horatio took one each in an interrogation room whilst Tim and Calleigh observed. Tim couldn't help but feel a gush of pride for his girlfriend as he watched her put her interrogation skills into action. It was entertaining watching a five feet six, thin woman make a six feet something, muscular, tattooed drug user squirm uneasily.

"Look, there's only one deal going here," Ridley said as she folded her arms and laid her New Yorker accent on thick, "and there are four of you, first to give us something useful gets it. So what have you got?"

"You want to know about the dealer, right?" the man retorted, trying to sound tough and failing.

"Do I?" Ridley retorted with a raised eyebrow and a shrug. "It depends, I'm not into any drug dealer, I want this one." She tugged out the copy of the sketch based on Connie Queens' description and slammed it down onto the desk. "Do you know him? And don't give me shit, you say it's him just to end this and I promise you won't only go straight to jail when I find out but I'll personally pick your cell mate."

The thug frowned as he studied the sketch, it was a man with short, dirty fair, swarthy skin, an ugly scar down his left cheek and beady eyes that Connie hadn't known the colour of. "It's him," he grumbled, "he has the same scar."

"And does he have a name?" Ridley demanded.

The man shrugged. "He calls himself Lewis."

"And where does he hang out?"

"The old Sunset Bay Hotel, that's where he does his business anyway. Now, can I get that deal?"

"Mr. Brooks you had better hope I find him there," Ridley said as she pocketed the sketch and stood upright again. "If he's there, you get the deal." She exited the room, ignoring the protests he yelled at her and joined Tim and Calleigh in the corridor.

"Good work," Tim praised.

"Thanks," Ridley retorted with a smile before she looked through the window opposite where Horatio was wrapping up his interrogation. "How's Horatio doing?"

"Good," Calleigh answered, "he got the same answer as you so either it's a clever trap or the Sunset Bay Hotel is our place."

"I take it, it's a derelict hotel," Ridley mused.

"Closed down in the nineties," Tim explained, "financial problems and..." He paused and looked thoughtful for a moment.

"What?" Ridley pried curiously.

"And a family was murdered in their room, two kids, mother and father, looked like the father shot them all and then himself," Tim answered dryly, "it wasn't exactly good for business."

Horatio finally exited his interrogation room and met Ridley's inquisitive stare. "Sunset Bay Hotel?" He made it a query.

Ridley nodded. "My guy said the same."

"I guess we'd better go then," Horatio said eagerly. "I'll let Frank know, it's a big hotel, but if we have too many numbers he might run and there are a lot of ways in and out of a hotel."

* * *

"Why did it have to be dark?" Calleigh grumbled as they surveyed the large, derelict hotel before them.

"It's nice," Ridley enthused, "in a creepy way," she added as Tim and Calleigh gave her looks of disbelief.

The hotel consisted of three buildings linked together, the two outer buildings were six floors tall whilst the central building was ten with a tower in its centre that mimicked a bell tower and held the lobby as well as the penthouse suites and seemed to be an unlucky thirteen floors, excluding the top of the tower itself, which was technically a floor but most definitely not a room. Pale gold in colour with columns at its entrance, its walls bore cracks and had ivy scaling them. The earth before it was barren, consisting of sand, soil and clumps of dry, dying grass, and the palm trees swishing silently in the low breeze just seemed eerie rather than exotic. Their only light was the electric lampposts flickering on the pathway leading up to the hotel, giving off an unhealthy white glow that was made murky thanks to the dirt and bird droppings on the glass.

"How the hell are we going to find our way about in there?" Tim queried.

"Torches," Frank answered helpfully, "and the place supposedly still has electric running."

"Who's fitting that bill?" Horatio queried curiously.

Frank shrugged. "Private company, there have been plans to reopen or redo the place for months now but it always seems to fall through."

"Well, if we could refrain from flicking on all the lights," the redhead suggested, "we don't want him to spook and run."

"If he's even here," Detective Sanchez commented wearily.

Tim gave him an unfriendly look but said nothing, he knew the man was only here doing his job but he didn't like the way he kept looking at Ridley. He didn't really like the way Detective Hagen kept eyeing Calleigh either as he felt it was unfair taking advantage of Eric's absence.

"So what's the plan H?" the blonde quipped.

The redhead glanced from her to Ridley hesitantly and both women frowned as they recognised the look in his blue eyes. He was trying to come up with a plan that kept them safest.

"Cops first," Ridley said quietly, "we've got to secure the scene."

"Do you?" Tim queried dryly with a frown.

"We do," Detective Sanchez answered calmly, "you guys might be tough CSIs but you are still just CSIs, we need to go in first, you can follow us but have your weapons out. You have no idea if this creep is working alone or not."

"And he's a madman," Ridley remarked helpfully, "the whole place could be booby trapped."

"Ah Ridley as if the hotel wasn't unnerving enough," Calleigh replied with feigned happiness and a tight smile.

"Let's head for the main doors," Horatio suggested, "check the entrance carefully and then go in. Frank, you guys can lead the way."

Frank nodded and he, Detective Sanchez and Detective Hagen took the lead. There were three other cops already round at the back trying to keep an eye on the premises, more numbers would definitely have been preferably but budgets were tight, staff was low and the evidence was scant, six was the best Horatio could get and the captain had made it very clear that he should be extremely grateful for that and would not be given a second chance to do this.

They moved slowly in the shadows of the palm trees, heading up the path carefully, wary that they were about to plunge into the unknown. They tensed when a lamp suddenly cracked and burnt out above them causing Calleigh to let out a brief giggle.

"Eric would love this," Tim murmured as he tugged out his Jericho and gripped it tightly.

"Are we going to split up in here?" Calleigh queried quietly. "It is a big place after all."

"We'll have no choice," Ridley murmured as they finally reached the porch, which was raised on four stone steps and had a column on either side. The double doors were wooden, formally painted blue the paint had all but chipped away and there was graffiti flanking either side of the doors including the words 'MAGIC DUST' in blood red paint.

Detective Sanchez tested one of the gold handles, it was unlocked but the door was stiff, forcing him to lean against it and shove hard. After a couple of shoves the door finally gave way and he and Detective Hagen rushed in with their guns raised. The others followed with more caution to survey the abandoned lobby.

"This would be good for a Halloween party," Ridley murmured appreciatively as they looked around.

There were cobwebs everywhere, dust lingered on all the tables and the lobby desk, graffiti stained the walls, which most of the wallpaper had been peeled or torn from. It had evidently been a grand room once with marble floors, columns and chandeliers. The rolls of blue carpet leading to the receptionist desk and to the stairs had several patches and questionable stains and the couches resting around the circular tables had numerous holes, burn marks and stains, and many of them were on their sides or upside down.

"I don't suppose anyone was kind enough to suggest a floor?" Frank queried sardonically as he waved his torch about.

Ridley and Horatio looked at each other before they both shook their heads.

"If I were an insane magician obsessed with Wonderland which floor would I deal drugs from?" Ridley queried aloud.

"There's a question I never thought I'd hear," Tim answered dryly.

"Well it's bound to be accessible," Calleigh murmured, "the ground floor or just one up, if he sleeps here he probably doesn't deal from his sleeping quarters."

"And if he's the narcissistic perfectionist he comes across as not just any room would do," Horatio continued with a small smile.

"He always coveted the superior house," Ridley murmured, "so yeah the penthouse suite would probably make sense."

"Stairs," Detective Sanchez complained.

"He likes a show though," Ridley continued, "the magician act, the theatre, the way he sets up his victims, it's all very dramatic."

"Well I don't think there's a theatre here," Calleigh retorted with a look of uncertainty.

"No but there is a ballroom," Tim answered as he pointed to a sign for it, mostly obscured under dust.

"It's a good place to start," Horatio agreed.

"On that note I don't think we should separate," Frank said, "let's just take it carefully one floor at a time."

They started heading in the direction of the ballroom, pausing when they all began to hear the faint noise of classical music playing. "Once again, if the walls start bleeding I'm going," Ridley commented deprecatingly.

"I'm going with you," Calleigh added chirpily as they continued moving forward.

Ridley took the lead this time, pausing at the double doors with Detective Sanchez opposite her. "Ladies first," he said with a teasing smile that set Tim's teeth on edge.

Ridley scanned the door quickly with help from Detective Sanchez's torch before she reached tentatively for the door. She could feel her heart beginning to hammer just a little harder in anticipation as she eased it down slowly. Sensing no signs of a trigger being set she dared to push the door in slowly, it was stiff but not as bad as the front doors and moved inwards slowly with a treacherous creak.

"That looks familiar," Tim commented sardonically in a low voice.

There were numerous round tables, all of which had their chairs stacked on top of them, some upside down, in uneven piles. It was hard to tell where the music was coming from but for a moment they all thought they were seriously outnumbered as they spotted a cluster of bodies on the dance floor.

"They're not moving," it was Horatio who noticed first.

"We need lights," Frank hissed.

"He could be in here," Horatio retorted warily as he took a step forward, gun drawn and ready.

"Right because he didn't hear the door," Tim answered, "and he can't see the torches."

"Come on Speed now's not the time for sarcasm," the redhead scorned lightly.

They moved across the soft carpet as gently as they could but everyone was on edge and they seemed to almost unwilling divide as Calleigh and Horatio moved to the left to avoid some tables, whilst Frank and the detectives moved the right to navigate around them and Tim and Ridley kept going straight up the middle.

It was Tim and Ridley who reached the dance floor first. At that moment the lights clicked on and Tim almost lost it.

The figures on the dance floor were all dressed in identical black suits and white rabbit masks and many of them were holding black colts in raised arms. It was Ridley who assessed the situation quickest, the figures weren't real, mannequins probably, and the sparkle on some indicated strategically positioned mirrors. She reached out and grasped Tim's right hand before he could shoot in a panic.

"It's okay," she said softly, "they're not real Tim."

Tim's heart was pounding so hard it made his chest throb and he felt his throat tighten as he seemed to struggle for air. He could feel a cold sweat start to rush over him as all he could see was that fucking mask mocking him.

Horatio, Calleigh, Frank and the detectives all moved in a hurry knowing someone had to have turned on the lights. They looked about wildly for the switches or a figure who may or may not have slinked off.

Tim felt himself double over slightly as his chest burned with pain. He remembered it all too clearly, that horrible, blazing pain, and the blood choking up his throat. His breaths were coming out too quickly now and he couldn't stop them. Blank eyes. That black circular hole that spelled death. That sudden, horrible noise of a gunshot.

Ridley released Tim's hand as she stepped into the dance floor slightly and looked about curiously. "Smoke and mirrors," she grumbled in irritation.

BANG!

Everyone jumped at the shot. Ridley's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at Tim and his smoking gun wordlessly. There was a low groan of pain behind her and a loud clatter that had her jumping and turning in surprise. One of the rabbit masked men had been real after all.

"Fooled me once," Tim sneered as he lowered his gun and stepped up beside Ridley, "but not twice asshole." The rabbit mask turned up to him accusingly but he didn't feel fear anymore, just a calm satisfaction.

Detectives Sanchez and Hagen hurried to seize the man, kicking his gun out of reach before they forced his hands behind him, ignoring his shrieks of pain as they did.

"You're getting good at disarming shots Speed," Horatio praised as he hastened to them.

"It was an accident," Tim retorted coldly, "I was aiming for his heart and I got his shoulder, got to work on that." He put an arm around Ridley who was still stunned and pulled her close as if to reassure both her and himself that she was okay.

"Well good work anyway, he'll be fit to question," Horatio answered cheerfully.

When the chandelier above them flickered out in darkness they all exchanged an amused but weary stare. "I think it's time to check out," the redhead said calmly.

"Every time," Tim groaned with a roll of his eyes at the pun.

* * *

After the magician's arrest the case had been smoother to wrap up. A thorough search of the hotel had resulted in disturbing photographs, half made costumes for some sort of cat, a king, a bird, a duchess and a caterpillar and ramblings on the wall in paint told a disturbing story of an 'unfinished queen' and 'ruined knave'. There was also a collection of clothes that ensured the man would be found guilty as they had belonged to all his dressed victims, evidently souvenirs. Finally, his gun and bullets were a match for the bullet that almost killed Tim.

With all that evidence gathered and, of course, his DNA being tied to several crime scenes, it was an easy matter to coax a confession out of him, which Horatio did. It was Ridley who got his identity out of him, it took several long, tiring and frustrating hours but after mentioning the 'Imperfect Alice' and taunting him about it being his shameful failure and mocking him over his envy for the Chimera House, which was now the den of spoiled teenagers, she finally got him to angrily admit that he was indeed Mr. Charles Rothdale Junior.

It was after this lengthy interrogation that Ridley allowed Horatio to take her out for a quick, late night coffee.

"That was good work with the interrogation," the redhead praised across the table of the diner, "it was especially clever using his sister's name."

Ridley gave a tired smile as she nodded and glanced about the diner. She remembered Horatio taking her here before, after the Clown and Babysitter case. Back then it had been more like an interrogation but now she felt they were out as friends, no ulterior motives. It was interesting how things had changed over time.

"So..." Horatio looked thoughtful for a moment. "When are you going to tell Tim the news?"

"What news?" she queried as she looked at him in surprise. "That the guy confessed? Tonight I guess."

Horatio smiled and shook his head. "No, your other news Ridley."

She looked confused for a moment before her eyes widened and she flushed and bowed her head slightly, looking to the cup clutched between two hands. "How did you know?" she queried quietly.

"I just noticed," he retorted gently.

"Really? Well I didn't know for sure until yesterday," she muttered. She looked up at the redhead with a serious stare. "I don't know how to tell Tim," she admitted. "Can you imagine? Hey Tim you know how we've only really been going out for a few months well, I'm pregnant, Merry Christmas." She sighed miserably.

"How far along are you?" Horatio pried.

She shrugged. "About a month, er...it was Vegas I think."

"Ah." He nodded and took a sip from his cup. "Well, whilst Tim leaves a lot to be desired when it comes to my nephew I think he will be better about it than you think."

"Maybe," she murmured doubtfully before she felt the tears prick at her eyes. "Shit Horatio things were finally getting good again; I don't know how to handle this. I don't know if I can." She glanced down at her hands again as they started to tremble.

Horatio reached out a hand to hers and said confidently, "of course you can do this Ridley and you won't be alone. Come on now, don't start stressing until you have spoken to Tim, I promise it won't be as bad as you think."

She nodded even as she rubbed at her eyes with her free hand. "I'm sorry," she babbled, "it's just...this whole year it's been one thing after another, I just..."

"Want to be happy," he finished for her. "I know, I understand."

"Sorry," she mumbled with an apologetic look, "I mean it's selfish saying this when you lost Yelina."

"My pain doesn't make yours any less important," he assured even as he swallowed hard. Even the mere sound of her name still made him tense and fill with a deep regret and guilt. "Now, I didn't mean to upset you I just wanted you to know that I know, so you can talk about it if you want," he said awkwardly.

She nodded. "Thanks," she murmured.

They continued their coffees amicably before Horatio finally drove Ridley home.

Tim's bike was in the drive and the living room lights were on indicating that he was still up. The redhead was happy to see it, the last thing he wanted to do was leave Ridley home to an empty house. He was surprised when Ridley leaned across the car seats to give him a close hug. "Thank you," she said sincerely, "for everything, especially after all the grief I gave you."

"It's alright," he assured with a slightly embarrassed smile as he flustered just a little. When she leaned back and reached for the door he hesitated before blurting out awkwardly, "I...I'm always here for you Ridley, alright?"

She gave him a small, warm smile in response. "I know," she said, "and it means a lot, and...I'm here for you too, okay? You know with Raymond and stuff, this doesn't change that, I still want to help out."

Horatio nodded gratefully. "I know, good night Ridley."

"Good night Horatio." She shut the door and headed up to the door to face the music.

She headed in, locked the door and entered the living room. Tim was slouched in the couch half-asleep with the television on. He glanced over at Ridley and sat up with a questioning look. "Well, how'd the interrogation go?" he quipped.

"Good," she confessed, "he's Rothdale."

Tim frowned as he stood up and rubbed at his neck with his left hand. "And that's it?" he queried dubiously. "Is something wrong?"

"Um..." She frowned and looked at the floor awkwardly.

"Ridley?" Tim stepped up to her, reaching out a hand to squeeze her right arm. "Is this to do with your doctor's appointment yesterday? You said it was just routine." His brown eyes widened when Ridley suddenly burst into sobs. "Shit, what's happened?" he demanded as he instinctively drew her close to him with both hands. "Ridley you're worrying me here, what's wrong?" he pressed for an answer.

"I...I...I'm pregnant," she confessed weakly. She felt Tim tense against her and that only made the sobs come harder.

For a moment Tim was frozen as he tried to digest this sudden news. He swallowed hard and tried to calm his heartbeats, well aware that Ridley could hear them. "Oh."

"I...I'm sorry."

Tim glanced down at her questioningly. "Sorry? Shit Ridley it's hardly your fault," he scolded her. "Come on, this is...well it's a shock but we'll make it work."

"Wwwhat?" Ridley pulled back and looked up at him in surprise.

"We'll make it work," he repeated more seriously.

"Really?"

Tim nodded and kissed her brow gently. "I know we have been through a lot and we have had our ups and downs but I love you Ridley and you love me and I know I want to be with you so this, well it's earlier than planned but it's okay."

"But you said you didn't want any for five years and we've only been together for a few months," Ridley retorted.

Tim gave her a small, sheepish smile. "Yeah I said that but hey, sometimes life is full of surprises I guess." He pressed a hand against her stomach, swallowed hard and questioned, "how...er...well when did this happen?"

"Vegas," she confessed as she blushed faintly, "well I think, the dates seem to um...make sense. I think that night, we had so much to drink and we er...had too much fun on the carousel."

"Right..."

"Yeah, it was um...sort of spontaneous so there was-"

"Yeah, I remember, sort of," Tim interrupted, "I got a bit carried away, no condom, yeah I remember that, I think. Well hey, conceived on a carousel in Vegas, it's certainly going to be a fun story to tell them."

Ridley laughed at this before hugging Tim close. "I love you," she said sincerely as her fears and worries seem to wash away in his warm grasp.

"I love you too Ridley but you know that, you're the only woman I'll ride carousels for."

* * *

 _Oh wow just the epilogue to go! So yeah it all came full circle for Tim, I felt he earned this arrest. Anyway, thanks for the lovely reviews as always and if you want a sequel let me know, I am contemplating one._


	25. Epilogue

'Just in Time for Christmas', that had been the common theme of the papers' headlines for the past few weeks, satirical and inaccurate as far as Horatio was concerned. Some of the newspapers seemed to make a great pretence out of thanking Miami-Dade for finally stopping their latest serial killer in time for the holidays whilst others harped back to the Suburban Legends' killer, pointing out the parallels and questioning if Miami-Dade would be lucky enough to catch the next one in time for the holidays. The redhead had scowled at the implication and thought sardonically that it might only give would be killers an incentive to strive for holiday murders for maximum attention.

It was Christmas Eve and Horatio knew he should be somewhat happy, the case was closed after all but there was something niggling at him, something Rothdale had said before he had been sentenced.

 _Charles Rothdale Junior was no more frightening or wild in appearance than the average drug dealer, he did not resemble the monster he was, which disappointed the press who chose to keep running the image of a rabbit masked mystery man. As Horatio impatiently surveyed him he took in his appearance for what he hoped would be a final time- hazel eyes, dirty fair hair, swarthy skin and a scar down his left cheek. He was a small, skinny man with a slightly sunken appearance and a few moles on his neck, entirely unremarkable._

 _Horatio folded his arms and quipped calmly, "is there a reason you requested my appearance Mr. Rothdale?"_

 _The man's beady hazel eyes snapped up to Horatio and for the first time the redhead saw life in them, a burning, powerful spark that alarmed him just a little. "Lorina," he complained, "an embarrassment I hid! He said you found her, he said you would make my shame public, so I had to do it again, make it new, make it so no one would see the failed Alice, only the perfect one. He said you knew."_

 _Horatio's golden-red eyebrow raised a notch at this. "He?" he queried curiously. He was used to this tactic, in desperation people liked to blame others, sometimes they even made up culprits for their terrible deeds._

" _The prince of Hell. You think I'm the devil but you think you caught the devil before me too, only demons, servants of Hell," the man babble. "Of us he has a multitude, a plague upon Miami, a legion, for we are many."_

 _Horatio tensed slightly at the abridged Biblical quote, he was used to religious nuts but Rothdale didn't seem to fit the profile for that and as he spoke he sounded disturbingly sane to the lieutenant. "Mr. Rothdale if you are trying to bargain for a more lenient sentence it's not going to work," Horatio retorted coolly. "You killed eleven people, which we can connect you with; you cannot downplay that or negotiate your way out of that."_

" _He mocked Alice, he said they would laugh, he awoke the demon, I had slumbered for ten years, I had forgotten the need to make it real, but he reminded me there was much yet to finish. I am the servant but he is the devil Lieutenant Caine." Rothdale gave a wide smile then. "Both of you are marked, Caine and the Beast. Think Lieutenant, why did the other sleeper awake and come from New York to Miami? Because an evil seed was planted!"_

 _Horatio shook his head tiredly. "I think it more likely he simply sought a change of venue," he suggested lightly. "At any rate Mr. Rothdale I have better things to do than listen to you talk of the devil, the simple fact is Mr. Rothdale you lie down with the devil, you wake up in Hell. You made your bed and you_ _are_ _going to burn in it."_

 _Frustrated, Horatio turned and headed for the door._

" _We are just the shadows Caine but there is only one who casts them out to darken Miami!" Rothdale shrieked at him._

Horatio shrugged off the memory and his uncomfortable unease as he pulled into Calleigh's drive and gave Raymond a weak smile. They all knew the holidays were going to be hard without Yelina and truthfully with Christmas having rushed in so soon after her sudden death the redhead really didn't know what to do and was somewhat relieved when Calleigh had been very insistent that he and Raymond came to her Christmas Eve party.

"Ready?" Horatio quipped brightly as he turned off the engine.

The boy looked at him sullenly and nodded. He hadn't wanted to come but he hadn't want to sit in his grandmother's house either staring at photographs of his dead parents. They exited out of the car and Horatio led the way to the front door, which predictably had a wreath hanging on it. Horatio rang the doorbell whilst Raymond hung back behind his coattails, suddenly shy and uncertain.

Calleigh opened the door with a bubbly smile wearing a green elf's hat. She opened the door wide to a festive, brightly lit hall. The sound of Christmas music called from the living room along with chatter and laughter and the sweet odour of ginger, nutmeg and eggnog wafted through the doorway. "Come on in guys," she said enthusiastically.

Horatio had to admit it did seem welcoming and he felt a slight weight shift from his shoulders as he stepped onto the wooden floor. Raymond followed behind him with less certainty, looking at Calleigh dubiously when she pressed her palms on her thighs and leaned down so that she was almost eye level with him. "John brought his niece Tess," she informed him with a grin, "and Alexx brought her kids."

"Oh," Raymond said flatly.

"Come on," Calleigh urged them both as she stood upright and closed the door. She led the way into the living room, pausing at the open doorway with a teasing grin. She pointed up to where mistletoe was hanging. Seeing the nervous look in Horatio's cerulean eyes only made her giggle and remark firmly, "come on Horatio it's tradition."

"Yeah H it's tradition!" Eric called teasingly from within.

Horatio sighed before obliging Calleigh with a quick kiss on the cheek. He then stepped into the living room where Eric and Alexx stood, both wearing Christmas jumpers, along with Alexx's husband Henry, Detective John Hagen, Detective Angelo Sanchez, and Frank Tripp all helping themselves to eggnog and festive snacks whilst John's niece Tessa and Alexx's son, Bryan, and daughter, Jamie, sat on a fluffy rug on the floor engrossed in a game.

The living room was appropriately decorated with fake holly and pine on top of the fireplace, penguin teddies on the mantle and a tall tree in the corner with numerous decorations, multi-coloured twinkling lights and tinsel. The television was on with Christmas music playing adding to the warm, festive feel in the room.

Half an hour later Raymond had finally relaxed into the evening with the other children and even laughed a couple of times much to Horatio's surprise, whilst Eric was trying to encourage the adults into beginning a game of Clue, jesting that the detectives weren't as clever as they thought. As they finally opened the game the doorbell rang again.

"At last," the blonde said happily as she raced to the front door. She opened it to smile at Ridley and Tim who stood side by side, Tim with his arm wrapped about Ridley's waist. "Welcome guys," Calleigh greeted cheerfully.

"Hi," Ridley replied happily, she was clutching a large bag in her left hand that looked full to the brim with presents.

"Come on in," Calleigh said chirpily. She once again led the way to the living room, pausing in the doorway and gesturing up to the mistletoe once more.

Ridley laughed and leaned in, giving her friend a kiss on the cheek, which resulted in several teasing catcalls from Eric and Detective Sanchez. Calleigh shook her head scornfully with a groan even as her cheeks blushed before she looked to Tim. "Come on Speed, it's tradition," she pointed out.

"Right," he retorted dryly before he gave the blonde a brief kiss on her other cheek.

The blonde giggled again before hastening into the living room. Tim then turned Ridley towards him and gave her a soft kiss causing half the room to emit teasing groans of despair. Ridley laughed again even as she blushed before stepping into the room.

"Hey guys," Eric greeted cheerfully as he stepped up to them, "how's Speedbump doing?"

Ridley frowned at the nickname even as she raised her free hand instinctively to her stomach. It was too soon for people to know and it worried her that the news had slipped out already. She grimly suspected that her psychiatrist Dr. Young had something to do with it. After being late to a session due to morning sickness and threatened with a negative report that could lead to a forced suspension as the psychiatrist thought she was trying to skip sessions again, Ridley had ended up blurting out the truth of the matter. Soon after it had become common knowledge that Ridley was pregnant. She had been upset enough about the matter for Horatio to intervene and try to find the source of the rumours but if it was the psychiatrist she had her trail covered. In the end Horatio had arranged for Ridley to see another psychiatrist, Dr. Mackenzie who, after meeting her, promised to have her discharged before New Year's Eve.

"Fine," she said calmly.

"Perfect," Tim answered a little more confidently even as his eyes twinkled with a trace of nerves.

"Speedbump?" Alexx questioned as she gave Eric a dubious glance.

Eric grinned proudly as he nodded. "It's Speed's bump," he explained jovially.

Alexx, Frank and Detective Sanchez all let out a groan of despair.

"Clever," John said appreciatively with a small smile.

"No it's not," Ridley grumbled.

Tim gave her a small grin. "It is kind of catching," he admitted.

Ridley gave him a look of disbelief. "Did you two come up with it together?" she demanded.

Tim wilted slightly at the fierce look in Ridley's eyes. "Um...maybe," he confessed awkwardly.

"Really Tim," Ridley retorted with a shake of her head before she finally sat down her bag and occupied a seat on the couch.

The night continued jovially with several Christmas movies and games of Clue and everyone departed late and happy, save Eric who stayed to continue celebrating his first Christmas with Calleigh as his girlfriend.

On Christmas Day Calleigh would be welcoming her father, Eric's parents, Horatio, and Raymond Junior for dinner, whilst Tim and Ridley would be reluctantly attending Tim's parents' house for theirs. They would all be uniting however after the festivities of Christmas and Boxing Day to travel together to Vegas to spend a much needed holiday there bringing in the New Year courtesy of Chris Cavaliere, Catherine Willows and Warrick Brown insisting that they came.

What had happened was Chris had gotten in touch with Ridley wanting to see her over Christmas whilst Catherine had extended a polite invite to Horatio, trying to be coy, she had made murmurings of Warrick wanting to see the Miami team again and Nick and the others wanting to meet Calleigh and Eric. Then she had dropped that excuse and whilst admitting it was true that Vegas did want to see Miami, she confessed she had a more personal interest in mind. Horatio had considered a decline until Ridley had mentioned the possibility of going to see her uncle, then they had discussed the matter and Calleigh and Eric had gotten excited about the prospect and so a brief holiday had been arranged.

* * *

New Year's Eve had come quickly and mercifully without event. Everyone had had a good Christmas and the Miami team had been able to come to Vegas with ease. Eric had been swift to catch up with Warrick and hit the casinos whilst Calleigh had started talking shop with Sara and Greg although she wasn't too impressed with the lab rat known as Hodges. The many distractions of Vegas had given Horatio and Catherine the private time from their teams that they had wanted. The redhead had thought he would turn the blonde down, giving into his grief and guilt, but there had been something about her smile, the glimmer in her blue eyes, a look that suggested she understood his pain and then, when they had kissed, that wonderful, burning spark he had felt before with her.

Now here they all were on the rooftop of a pricey casino, part of an exclusive party ready to begin the countdown and welcome the fireworks. Horatio stood beside Catherine, both of them carefully surveying the members of their teams even as they enjoyed each other's company. Calleigh and Eric were hand in hand looking over the railings and joking with Warrick and his date, Nick was with Gil, Sara and Greg, ever the life of the party as he entertained with jokes whilst Tim and Ridley seemed oblivious to anyone else despite Chris Cavaliere's watchful gaze on them. Tim had spent the holiday sober for Ridley, although it was obvious how hard he found the nightclubs to bear without alcohol. The pair had found their fun in slipping off to visit a particular carousel that had left the others confused, especially when the topic seemed to embarrass Ridley, and resulted in Tim making jokes about naming his offspring Silver or Moonbeam, he admitted he couldn't be sure which. Horatio thought he got the joke and Chris knew he did, and it was all the dark haired detective could do to contain his temper.

"Ten," the countdown began.

Horatio looked to the Vegas landscape and then to the skies before his gaze flickered from one teammate to another, "four," for Calleigh, "three," for Eric, "two," for Tim, and then "one," for Ridley. He hoped quickly that this New Year would be a good one for them because they all sorely deserved it. As the fireworks lit up the sky in a magnificent show of colour Horatio let his fears go up with them as Catherine pulled him into a kiss. Miami's problems could stay in Miami for now, this was Vegas and anything could happen in Vegas.

* * *

 _Well that's it guys, another Miami fanfic done and dusted! Thank you all for sticking with this one and for your lovely reviews and favs etc, they have definitely kept these fanfics going! I thought I'd leave this one slightly more open ended in case I do, do a sequel, as I've said I do have some ideas and if there is a want for it I will oblige, but at the same time I do think I've wrapped it up nicely too as in everyone has gotten their happy ending :-)_


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